


Angel in Hell

by hrrystyle



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 20:44:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18431753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrrystyle/pseuds/hrrystyle
Summary: Niall hunted monsters. Vampires. Werewolves. Ghosts. Demons. Then he met Harry.





	Angel in Hell

When Niall was three years old, a demon killed his mother. He didn’t remember much just the heat of flames licking across his bedroom wall, and glowing white eyes. When he was five, his father Bobby sat him down on the floor of a seedy motel an hour outside of Dublin and told him monsters were real. They moved to America, and Bobby taught Niall everything he knew about the supernatural. He grew up hunting monsters. He knew that werewolves turned with the moon and were stopped by silver, and he needed to cut the head clean off a vampire for it to die. He cried all night after his father told him the truth about what hides in the dark. He cried even after his father turned off the lights and tucked him in.

Niall was eight when he learned how to clean and load a gun. When he was nine, he learned how to properly shoot it. He liked how warm his dad’s hand felt on his shoulder after he hit each practice target with a cracking echo. He basked in the proud smile, and he tried his hardest to be better and stronger. He wanted to be what his father wanted. He was twelve when he learned how to carve magic sigils, and he was sixteen when he killed his first monster. It was a wendigo reeking havoc somewhere in Illinois. It was also the first time Niall kissed a boy, but he didn't tell his dad that part.

Niall was born to hunt creatures that lurked in most people’s nightmares. Most hunters were born into it. Families raised in the lure of hunting monsters all around the world. They had journals and books that spanned across centuries. It was in their blood to continue a twisted legacy. Niall didn’t have much of a choice. He was raised by his fierce hunter father, and his mother had been born into a legacy of her own. Bobby had always been a fighter and because of that Niall was too. It was hard sometimes knowing the ghost stories people told were real and those creatures lurked in shadows waiting for unsuspecting humans.

He watched people in small towns he can’t remember the name of, and he envied them. He resented them for not having to worry about demons or shape shifters. These regular unsuspecting people didn’t have knives under their pillows or pistols strapped to their ankles. They moved through the night with ease and security not checking over their shoulders for ghosts or witches. They just lived. They went to their jobs, and drank beer with their friends. They had sex and relationships. They built families something Niall would never have. He would always be on the road looking in dark corners for monsters.

Bobby died on a hunt when Niall was just shy of eighteen. He had always been an “act now, think later” hunter. He went in guns blazing so sure he’d be able to take down the creature. It was meant to be routine, just a demon in a truck stop town in Arizona.

When he didn’t call for a week, Niall expected the worst like he’d always been told. His father always told him to keep hunting and moving forward but Niall looked for Bobby for two months until he finally tracked down a demon Jude in the mountains of Montana. He practically bragged about how easy it was to kill Bobby. How weak and broken Niall’s father was in the end. Niall still felt the hole in his chest, and he won't forget the smile the thing gave him before exploding into a cloud of black smoke.

After his father died, Niall moved in with Finn and Charlie – demon hunters Bobby knew from years of traveling around America. They became a surrogate family to Niall helping him and Bobby navigate America with little trouble. The hole gaping in his chest felt a little smaller with them. Charlie took care of Niall like he was one of his own. He brought Niall on hunts with his son Finn, and they learned how to work together. When Charlie came down with some nasty cancer, Finn went back to take care of him and Niall went on alone. He stopped by from time to time, and Finn called with new cases ever once in a while.

Now, Niall was somewhere in Virginia. He was staying in a motel with burnt out light bulbs and mysterious stains. No one asked questions at motels like this. They were just an easy stop for vagrants and truckers. Niall didn't like questions. He’d been hunting a small nest of vampires. They had put up a good fight, but Niall killed them off. He hissed as he poured rubbing alcohol over the wound on his forehead.

The burner phone sitting in the front pocket of Niall’s oversized suede jacket rang into the quiet evening. Niall knew who it was before answering. Only two people had this phone number – it was the one number Niall could always be reached at.

“Ni, think we got something in New England,” Finn’s rumbling voice cracked through the speaker.

“What is it?” Niall asked through gritted teeth. 

He wedged the small cell phone between his shoulder and ear trying to focus on Finn’s words while he cleaned away the vampire blood under his fingernails.

“I’d say demons,” Finn said with a low whistle. “Four dead so far, looks pretty nasty.”

Niall snorted and threw his first aid kit back into his bag. He never bothered unpacking because he was never in one place for long enough. This case had taken him less than a week.

“Got it, I’ll call ya when I know something,” Niall reassured grabbing his duffel bag and heading for his car. He’d been hunting by himself for nearly a year now, and he was good at it. He couldn’t handle being responsible for anyone else, not anymore. Niall felt a disconnect from other people now, but he figured it was best. His whole life had always been monsters, and it probably always would be.

Niall drove a restored ’67 Chevy Impala he rebuilt with his father when he was fourteen. It was a deep, forest green with shiny mismatched hubcaps, and it was Niall’s. It was his home. He had all he needed: his car, his guitar, and his father’s journal that had everything this father knew about monsters as well as stories about his mother and a life before hunting. Niall held on to those the tightest.

Finn sent a detailed email with links to the killings as well as a few theories going around hunters. The patterns looked like demons searching for something. They don’t know where it is, but they’re determined to find it. Hunters were a tight-knit community. The hunters in America came from a few prominent families passing down techniques and history from generation to generation. There weren’t many hunters now, and they all kept in touch with Finn and Charlie – the unofficial sort of research team. 

Niall assured his friend he'd figure out what was going on. If it turned out to be more than one demon, he’d call for backup – well he told Finn he’d call for back up, but if Niall learned one thing from his dad it was to go in guns blazing. Niall didn't waste any more time and checked out of the motel as blood swirled the sink drain. This was how his life went - one case to the next. Niall tried to save as many people as he could to fill the hole in his heart, that empty feeling that gnawed away at him and reminded him he wasn’t like everyone else. There was something missing in Niall. But he still wanted the world to be a little better.

Niall hated the North East. It took him the better part of a day to travel to the small town in New Hampshire from Virginia watching the temperature meter on his dashboard decrease. Niall had seen most of America. by now, and the East Coast was always his least favorite. The people moved too fast, and it always seemed colder than the rest of the country even if it wasn’t. Most of the hunters he’d met in Ireland only saw a creature every few years. They seemed to infest the small American towns. After Niall's mother was murdered, Bobby moved them to America and told Niall they needed to help. As an adult, Niall understands the truth. Bobby took Niall to America to distract himself from the murder of his love. He never got back to Ireland before he died. Niall adapted to the constant hunting, and now America was home. He'd do whatever he could to save it.

Large mountains with burnt orange trees surrounded him and leaves blew through the biting wind welcoming the death of winter. Niall hated the fall. The sun set far too early, which made it easier for creatures to hunt. A small town like this was nothing against a hungry predator. 

Niall drove along the stretch of road until modest homes and storefronts bled together and formed a small town just like every other place Niall visited. There was one diner, one grocery store, and one gas station for a small population. Everyone waved to you from their cars or homes or just because. People from towns like this watched him walk down the street because they knew he wasn’t from around here. He pulled up to a roadside motel, paid for the week, and collapsed against the hard mattress. He was out in a matter of minutes.

The next morning, his police scanner picked up a homicide call before he finished his toast. The dispatcher disclosed that it was one dead female with severe mutilation. The crime scene was roped off, and the Sheriff was on site. Niall set off on foot already dressed in his slim, simple suit. His fake ID stashed in the breast pocket of his black blazer. He slid the dark black sunglasses over his eyes despite the misty fall morning.

There were a dozen cops already there when Niall arrived. Most stood by the small crowd of locals gathering at the police tape. There was a TV reporter stationed across the street talking obnoxiously into her oversized microphone. He shimmied under the police line and approached the Sheriff with a friendly smile.

“Morning, Name’s Agent O’Brien,” Niall said with his thick Irish brogue.

He flipped open the fake ID letting the Sheriff's eyes glance over it before he snapped it shut. Lying was second nature to Niall. He’d been an FBI agent, a reporter, and even a priest to gain information about a case. FBI agent was always the easiest. People generally folded under authority. Though most of the local cops gave him shit to try and be superior. Niall let them have their fun – it’s not like he cared anyway.

“Sheriff Allen,” he shook Niall’s hand with a huff, “Can’t believe they sent you. What, did you graduate from Quantico yesterday?”

Niall was used to that. The older cops loved undermining his age. He knew they did it to seem superior. Especially because Niall's presence made them feel incompetent. They felt threatened when he showed up. Niall didn’t like making them aware of their obvious flaws, but he also had monsters to kill. He didn’t dwell on their feelings for too long. They would thank him if they knew the kind of things he killed for them.

“Yeah – fresh eyes. ‘Think this is related to other murders. Pretty confidential stuff,” Niall said.

The lie came easy, and he didn’t bother elaborating as he crouched beside the corpse. His eyes scanned around the room looking for clues of witches like spilled salt or hex bags. The stench coming from the body made Niall’s stomach turn, but he schooled his face. This wasn’t the first dead body he’d seen, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Found her exactly like this. She’d been out with a few friends at the bar in town. Said they dropped her off a one in the morning. She never came to work,” Sheriff Allen explained.

He stood over Niall with his hands on his hips and his lips pulled into an intense frown.

Niall continued to look for signs, clear signs that this was a demon and not just some psycho with a grudge. There were cases where Niall found it was the cruelty of man rather than monsters. Those cases stuck with him the longest.

The victim was a girl a few years older than him. Niall let his eyes move over her exposed skin as he slapped rubber gloves on his hands. The light caught a locket around her neck, but there weren’t any pictures inside. Niall held the heart shaped necklace in his fingers for a beat before laying it back against her chest. She was wearing a tight black dress with large holes cut out at the hip. She hadn’t changed meaning she probably died pretty quickly after getting home. There was a large tear down the center of it. The gash looked like it was from a knife. Niall noticed the raw marks around her wrists and scratches across her face. Her skin was cold to the touch as Niall turned over her arms, there were demonic symbols burned into her skin still raw and red with blood. Niall swore he still saw steam lifting from the burns. Deep black scorches laid where her eyes should be. She looked like a flaming hand plucked her eyes right from the sockets. Niall made mental notes of all these things.

“It looks like it was all self-inflicted,” the Sheriff mumbled his hands still shoved deep in his pockets. “God, I went to school with her mother.”

His tone was a somberness Niall was used to. Little towns like this, everyone knew everyone. These weren’t just residents these were Sheriff Allen’s friends. 

Niall hummed.

Abby Mitchell was a 29-year-old town archivist. She worked in the library sorting through historic documents from this historic New England town. She loved books. After examining the body, Niall walked around her small cottage. Her house was in disarray. Pots and pans were on the floor, and the blankets had been ripped off the bed. Abby had a lot of books. There were at least two bookshelves in each room, and they were all overstuffed with tattered binds. Almost all of the bookshelves had been picked over with books tossed on every surface, but nothing was missing. They demons hadn’t found what they were looking for and took their frustration out on Abby. Though she wasn’t the first victim, the others didn’t have the same level of torture burned into their skin.

Sheriff Allen gave him a ride to the station. The small town was obviously overwhelmed by the murders. Officers raced around the station picking up ringing phones and filling out paperwork. Niall spotted Abby’s friends right away by their hunched shoulders and confused glances. Sheriff Allen handed him a thick manila folder before motioning towards the group. Niall hated this part. He hated the way their stories made his heart ache. Bobby always told Niall he was too weak for this part. It was the curse of Niall’s big heart. Bobby meant it as a compliment, but it just made Niall feel incompetent. He tried harder to be cold with victim’s families, but that ended up making him feel worse. Later Bobby told him it was always better to feel, that feelings reminded hunters they were human not the monsters they hunted.

Abby went out with three friends that night – Betsy, John, and Nathan. Betsy hardly got a word out when Niall asked about the last time she’d spoken to Abby. She broke into tears and hunched over the metal interrogation table. John and Nathan rubbed her back and told Niall every detail they remembered down to the screwdrivers Abby drank.

“Nobody loved this town more than Abby,” John said rubbing his hand down Betsy’s arm as she let out another anguished wail. “This place – this life – yeah, maybe it was all she’d ever known, but she loved it.”

Abby was sweet and innocent. Niall saw why a demon would want to use her, but she wasn’t useful enough. His stomach turned at that thought. Abby hadn’t been enough. 

“It’s so odd because Abby never drinks, but she kept taking shots last night. Even made out with the bartender Nick,” Betsy said weakly through her tears. “She was so out of character.”

She was back to wailing in John’s arms.

Finn called when Niall was a block from the motel. He hadn’t learned much from the newest victim. He already felt beaten down. Seeing the bodies always took a lot out of Niall.

“They’re looking for a book,” Finn said not bothering with a greeting.

Niall rolled his eyes.

“All this for a bloody book, fucking demons,” Niall growled.

“Well, it’s Hell’s book,” Finn said.

He launched into folklore about an ancient book written by God about Hell and Demons. It had information on how to stop them, how to lock them up, even how to cure them. It held every secret ever written about a demon. Apparently, it had been stolen by the Devil so Angels wouldn’t have an advantage on them. He claimed it was his book. It caused a huge war in heaven – millions dead, and in the chaos the book had been lost. If it even existed at all. 

No hunter or human had ever seen the book, and if the demons were so desperate to have it, it meant they had never seen it either. It was only a legend, which made Niall’s job more difficult.

Niall grumbled a complaint about the book being a myth that this was all some wild goose chase. He took a tremendous bite from his burger. It had been four days since Niall had a real meal. He lived mainly on vending machine snacks and Red Bull. The diner down the block had a pie special that Niall couldn’t pass up. He’d gotten himself two cheeseburgers and a whole cherry pie. He’d gotten through the first burger on his walk home. 

“They feel it,” Finn explained “That’s how they know it’s close.”

They didn’t say much after that, not bothering with pleasantries like they used to years ago. They were too tired. Finn sent Niall all the folklore he found. Niall settled against the headboard of his bed with his laptop settled on his thighs and started to read.

The next day, Niall made his way through town. He visited the library Abby worked at. It was obvious to Niall now that the demon chose Abby based on her proximity to books. He didn’t expect to find Hell’s book sitting among Mark Twain in the town library but he browsed the archives anyway. There were an overwhelming number of religious texts, which Niall wasn’t surprised by considering how small the town was. He ran his hands over four different Bible interpretations before giving up. 

From the library, Niall headed to town hall. He checked all public records of antiques sold and acquired in town, but there wasn’t anything about a book. Niall grew more frustrated as the hours passed. He was no closer to the demon or the book.

When he got back to the motel, Niall pulled out his old laptop waiting for it to come to life. He poured over all the articles and old stories Finn had passed along trying to find something in the folklore. Abby’s remains left nothing but signs of demon torture. She obviously didn’t have the book, which meant it wasn’t in the official town archives. Niall’s laptop groaned and whined as Niall kicked off his boots and melted into the motel chair. When it overheated, Niall turned to the police reports. From the testimonies, it seemed Abby was acting odd the night of her death. The police suspected drugs, but Niall knew she had been possessed, and when they couldn’t find the book or any clues, the demon killed her. Because it was easy and fun for demons. Niall flexed his fingers in anger and pushed away the reports.

Hours had passed, and Niall felt his stomach rumble with hunger. The pie he’d bought from the diner was already gone, and his stomach groaned at the thought of another cheeseburger. Niall changed into a pair of tight black jeans with a long-sleeved Henley t-shirt and a deep green flannel on top. He threw on his father’s oversized jacket to fend off the biting cold. There were four streetlights in the 10-minute walk to the diner, and he paid close attention to the shadowed corners where something might hide. 

Niall ate another greasy burger for dinner, but the elderly waitress also made him eat a side salad before she gave him his fries. Niall nagged her, but his heart felt a funny warmness at her scolding motherly behavior. He ordered a vanilla shake and side of onion rings for desert. He ate them at the counter while his waitress in a cheesy pink dress smiled sweetly at him.

“Need anything, Darling,” the waitress asked.

She wore a nametag that said Diane in loopy handwriting.

“Got any whiskey for this milkshake,” Niall grumbled taking another large gulp of the shake and threw two onion rings in his mouth before swallowing.

Diane snorted.

“No help here, but you should head across the street. I bet the place is busy tonight, maybe you can find some company there,” Diane commented. She ticked her head towards the neon beer signs across the street with an exaggerated wink.

Niall hadn’t been to the bar yet. It was the last place Abby was seen, and he knew the demon probably hung around there. Bars were easy to scout targets. He looked down at his outfit shrugged and threw some money onto the table. He crossed the street without looking because a car hadn’t passed through town in hours. There wasn’t a line, but Niall spotted a group of six huddled around cigarettes right at the edge of an alley. The pub was small with an L-shaped bar that wrapped around one corner, and a small dance floor with two large speakers sitting in the corner and a DJ that looked like a PTA mom.

It was decently crowded compared to other town bars Niall visited. He was used to truck stops with two or three drunk regulars mingling with down and out truckers who need a strong cup of coffee before getting back on the road. There were dozens of people his age pressed close to the wood bar knocking back shots and pints of amber liquid. Niall kept his eyes sharp as he moved through the crowd a beer warming in his hands.

He took note of the three bar top tables. They all had groups of people standing around them, and there were numerous glasses on the table. The wood tops were faded with rings of beer and liquor. Niall felt the pumping bass under his feet as he dodged around bodies, and it was kind of exhilarating. In the crowded bar, Niall pretended he was just a 25-year-old guy. He was supposed to be hunting or at least looking for clues, but the steady flow of bodies and the swing of hips on the dance floor kept him entranced. And he liked pretending. He liked scanning the bar for a cute guy or girl, someone who could keep his bed warm, keep him warm for a little while. Niall envied people who did this casually. He wondered if he’d ever have anything normal. 

There was only one bartender working, and he seemed to know most of the patrons by name handing them drinks with an easy smile. He was a burly man with shoulders wider than Niall and a big scar across his collarbone. He passed Niall his pint with a disinterested grunt before moving down the bar and helping the next person.

Niall wasn’t sure what he was looking for yet, so he situated himself on the corner of the bar and watched the crowd mingle. There were pockets of people among the flashing flights of the bar. He heard the rumble of conversation under the music. Girls were in tight tops and the boys were in ill fitted khakis, but Niall let his eyes wonder the crowd moving over limbs and faces. He memorized the crowd taking notes of how people moved and where their eyes went as the songs bled into each other. 

Niall downed his first pint. He leaned back on his elbows and placed the empty glass against the bar before signaling the bartender for another. He was halfway through that pint when he felt a hot stare on the back of his neck. These eyes felt like ice and fire mixed so beautifully together, and Niall spun on his heels in search of the stare. The lights flashed, and there was a man across the dance floor at the other end of the gaze. His eyes were piercing as he moved on the dance floor. Niall didn’t recognize the song but it didn’t matter, the tempo was fast and the bass was thumping. The stranger held Niall’s gaze as he shook his hips with a sedated smirk. He had curly hair that fell over his eyes, and Niall caught the flash of his bright yellow button up even with the first few buttons undone. He looked half wrecked just from the heat of the pub and Niall’s eyes, and he wanted to tear the stranger apart. It was a new feeling that Niall never felt, but he wanted to drown in. He wanted to approach the man and feel his gaze up close. He wanted to let his own eyes move over the other man, maybe his hands. Niall was lonely, and he had a special love for hot boys in bars. The bartender put down his beer and Niall slid him some cash leaving a nice tip. He lifted his glass at the bartender before taking a big swig. 

Before Niall made his way towards the dancing man, he was approached by a small group of girls. They were all wearing dresses despite the chill outside. They introduced themselves with flips of hair and secret smiles that were meant to entrance Niall. The leggy redhead was named Wendy, which made Niall snort into his beer as she rolled her eyes. He kept the girls entertained though because despite the hole in his heart, Niall was a people person. He liked the way attention felt like warm sun on his skin and a chorus of laughter after a joke felt like a stadium cheer. He liked attention and the beautiful women were happy to give it to him. Niall felt his buzz after the short dark hair named Ashley bought everyone shots of whiskey because Niall was Irish. He kept the girls smiling and flirting with ease and not much effort. He knew if he wanted to he could bring home any one of the girls. Honestly, he could probably bring home all three, but he wasn’t really interested. Niall had always been more attracted to men.

Niall doesn’t get drunk because he’s working. Technically. In his mind, at least. He’s supposed to be looking for clues or talking to locals about anything weird happening in town. There were always clues. But this bar was fun and the tequila Wendy ordered the group tasted nice. He liked just being normal for a moment. He let the liquor relax his muscles as he slid his hand down Wendy’s back. She leaned closer and pressed her chest against his shoulder. She whispered something in his ear that he didn’t fully catch, but knew it was dirty and it had been a while. Niall decided he would at least attempt to pull Wendy even if she was a little boring and her laugh too loud. 

When she launched into a story about her first trip to Ireland at some attempt to connect to him, Niall took a moment to sip on his beer and observed the crowd again. His hand was still resting snugly on Wendy’s waist right above the swell of her ass. This was Niall’s way of letting her know he wanted her. That if she asked, he’d go home with her. By the way she pressed back into his hand, he knew he wouldn’t be alone tonight. So much for a good night’s sleep. He brought the pint glass up to his lips and let his eyes move around the dark room. There were pockets of people chatting, drinking, and dancing. It looked like any normal pub, and it frustrated Niall that he couldn’t find any clues within the alcohol soaked room. His eyes swept across the dance floor to the other side of the bar.

Niall saw the sharp line of his jaw first. It was the man he’d seen dancing with wild curls and pouty lips that looked like cotton candy. It was dark and lights flashed around the small space, normally the colorful flashing would make Niall dizzy but he felt frozen in the deep green gaze, and he didn’t want to lose it again. Even from across the dimly lit room, Niall made out the delicate flecks of gold in the stare. His skin felt blazing just like before when the stranger caught Niall’s eye while dancing, and Niall wondered again what it would be like to be touched by the man. The two stared at each other caught in a haze of lust and want, and Niall had never felt anything like this before. He felt like he was watching from above his body as this green gaze ripped open his soul.

He dropped his hand from Wendy’s waist and leaned forward to get a better glimpse of the other man. Niall saw the sharp jaw cut around a cheeky smirk. It made his body hot, and he rocked on his heels to try and see more. He wanted to get closer. He was moments away from just abandoning the girls and weaving through the crowd to the man. He felt his own mouth stretch into a smile as he looked over the stranger’s lips. So, pink, so bright even in the dingy bar. Lips Niall imagined kissing for hours.

Wendy laughed loudly, and her friends echoed with the same ferocious giggles. She reached out to squeeze Niall’s bicep causing his gaze to jump away from the attractive stranger and down at the girl in front of him. He fed the girls some line that had them all giggling and swooning, but when Niall tried to find the green eyes again they were lost in the crowd. He groaned into his pint glass, finished off his beer and accepted the shot from Wendy. The burn of tequila encouraged Niall to dance with Wendy. 

His eyes jumped around the small pub looking for the man who’d just been in the middle of the flashing lights. Niall twirled Wendy around the make-shift dance floor letting the beer and liquor warm his blood. She pressed her back against his chest and moved her hips in gyrating circles to the bass playing around them. Niall felt the friction of Wendy’s ass on his jean zipper. At the very least he’d fuck Wendy while thinking about green eyes. There was exhaustion pricking the back of his head. After the song ended, Niall excused himself to get another drink, but Wendy just followed him to the bar. One more beer and he’d make a real move on Wendy, probably get a blowie in the restroom and call it a night. 

He ordered the beer with a quick raise of his hand and nod towards the busy bartender. Wendy stayed close leaning against the bar top to talk to another girl Niall didn’t recognize from before. The bartender smiled at Niall this time. He leaned against the bar top dropping his elbows on the worn wood as he watched the man poured his drink quickly and precisely. He left the man another good tip before he straightened his shoulders and rose from his elbows.

He felt it down his back first. It was cold and sticky as it seeped into his shirt pasting the material flat against his back. Then he smelt it. The heavy sent of amber alcohol something sweet and spicy; something that would linger on his skin for days even after a shower. Normally, Niall let things like this go because he wasn’t much of a fighter when a monster wasn’t threatening his life. It was just that Niall thought this would be easy, but the bar was far too crowded to actually surveillance, and he’d gotten elbowed in the stomach a few times. There was also the fact that he was horny, and Wendy wasn’t quite his type. He’d had a little too much liquor, and the angry Irish was coming out in him.

Niall turned on his heels with his teeth barred. He was ready to let all his frustration and exhaustion out on the bloke who just spilled a mixed drink down his back when he’s met with vibrant green eyes. He blanched and the insults got caught in his throat. It was the same man he’d seen across the bar. The man with the cut jaw who danced with loose limbs and easy swaying hips.

“I’m so sorry,” the stranger stuttered.

He was around the same age as Niall. He had a sharp jaw and overly pink lips. They looked even more pink and puffy up close, and Niall imagined how swollen they’d get after he’d been kissing all night. Wild curls framed his face and curved around his neck. He had his hair styled out of his face, and there was a spot on his forehead. But he still looked like a model. There were dimples deep in his rosy cheeks that framed his large but rather attractive nose. He smiled abashedly, and Niall resisted the urge to brush his finger over them. He always had a thing for dimples. The stranger was a few inches taller than him. His legs were long and covered in wide legged trousers that would look ridiculous on anyone else. 

The pants matched his cream loafers that were scuffed at the toe. He shrank under Niall's stare his shoulders hunched forward to try and make himself small; like a pet being reprimanded, but the bright yellow button up he wore was like a beacon in the dingy bar. It was too bright with an obnoxiously floral print on it, and the first four buttons were undone to reveal his sparse chest hair and intricate tattoos. Niall caught site of the dark ink under his shirt and up his arms. He never thought much about tattoos until that moment. Because now Niall couldn’t stop thinking about them and letting his eyes roam over the other man’s painted skin. Niall felt sweat prick the back of his neck at the thoughts that invaded his imagination. The boy coughed and pushed his deep brown curls up and out of his face.

He gripped his empty glass tightly in one hand while the other pulled at his curls. Niall saw the sticky liquid falling over the stranger’s long, ring-covered fingers. His hands were big. He thought they were nice hands, and before he could stop himself, Niall imagined them wrapping firmly around his neck and in a way he wasn’t used to. Sure, it was one thing for Niall to get turned on by the strangers whimsical and nonsensical tattoos, but these images were a different thing entirely. Niall had been choked on quite a few cases by quite a few monsters, but Niall thought he'd like the stranger to choke him until he cummed. 

The other man frantically reached for a stack of napkins on the corner of the bar and shoved them towards Niall. The shirt on his back was heavy with heady whiskey, and it was making Niall’s head a little fuzzy. It was that or the stranger’s wide eyes and innocent smile.

“Klutz,” Wendy muttered under her breath shooting the stranger a look of contempt. They obviously knew each other, but were pretending they didn’t for the sake of Niall.

The stranger frowned at Wendy before turning to Niall again. There was a sheepish smile on his face as he apologized again.

“It’s no problem,” Niall muttered in response to the frantic string of sorry’s. He hoped his annoyance didn’t leak through his tone. 

He hated the way the drink felt on his skin, but he liked the way this guy looked. Niall was still lonely and in need of some company all thoughts of Wendy gone. It’s like she wasn’t even standing beside him as the stranger continued to stare with wide, vibrant green eyes.

Their fingers brushed when Niall grabbed the crinkled stack of napkins, and Niall liked the roughness of the touch. He patted his shoulder and tried to soak up the liquor drying to his skin, but the crappy napkins soaked and disintegrated beneath his fingers. He quickly realized they weren’t going to help.

“I’m going to go try to clean up,” Niall said and ticked his head towards the restroom. He knew this should have been directed at Wendy, who was still leaned against his side, but his eyes lingered on the stranger. Niall hoped that would be enough of a hint. 

The stranger didn’t say anything else, just continued to watch Niall in a close sort of way like he was waiting for the Irishman to snap and punch him in the face. Truthfully, the only punching Niall wanted to do was his mouth against the stranger’s. He gave one last smile before he started towards the rest room. Wendy told Niall she’d wait for him at her spot at the bar, but Niall knew he wouldn’t be coming back not for her at least, he nodded at her in agreement anyway.

Niall weaved his way through the crowd and breached the door to the pub bathroom. Thankfully, it was empty. It was just one stall and a dirty urinal with a sink pushed in the corner. Above the molding sink was a dingy mirror that Niall barely made out his reflection in. There were empty bottles and sticky pint glasses on the floor along with crumbled toilet paper and paper towels form the over flowing garbage can. The air in the pub was suddenly too hot and he was grateful for the chance to breathe. Overall, the bathroom smelled faintly of shit and bleach. 

Niall ripped off his flannel shirt before the door even shut behind him. He smelt the whiskey on the dark material, and when he pulled his white shirt over his head, he saw the large stain of dark liquor. 

The material clung to his skin sending an uncomfortable shiver down his back. There wasn’t much he could do. There was a large dark circle from his right shoulder to the middle of his back. The fabric was practically dripping in sticky soda mixed with sticky liquor. There was already sweat layered on his body mixing with the amber liquor making Niall want to crawl out of his skin. He decided it was better to just call it a night. The stranger hadn’t followed him, and now he was just tipsy, horny, and annoyed. He would go back to the motel and sleep off the disastrous bar trip before getting back on the streets tomorrow. He would focus on the case and forget all about the green-eyed stranger. Or at least he hoped. Niall needed an early night anyway. He hadn’t slept a full night in almost a month. He deserved it.

Right as he was about to put his shirt back on, the bathroom door swung open and the stranger stumbled through the threshold freezing when he caught site of Niall’s bare chest, which was covered in tuffs of dark hair. He licked his lips, but Niall didn’t want to think about that for too long. Not when so much of his pale skin was exposed. It tended to give him away. 

“Mate?” Niall asked when the stranger didn’t say anything, just continued to move his eyes gently and slowly over his body.

Goose bumps rose on his skin. Niall knew he should put his shirt back on, but he wasn’t shy and liked the way the man’s gaze felt on him. This is what he wanted after all. A nice fuck to help him concentrate on finding the dumb book. Niall tended to focus better after a good fuck, and the way the stranger was looking at him felt promising.

“Harry. My names Harry Styles,” the stranger said.

His eyes jumped to Niall’s for the first time since he entered the bathroom. He supplied Niall with a small guilty smile.

“Okay, Harry Styles. I’m Niall Horan,” Niall nodded and waited.

He knew better. Niall should have lied, told Harry his name was Connor or something like that. Lying was second nature, but something about this man stopped him. He wanted Harry to know something real about him. He wanted to be real to Harry. He wanted the other man to remember this night. If Niall was going to be a one night stand to this charming and magnifying man, he wanted Harry to remember it, but more specifically him. He felt desperate to leave even the smallest mark on Harry’s life. It was a need burning deep under his skin. One he didn’t fully understand and hadn’t felt in years.

Harry swayed slightly where he stood, but his eyes didn’t leave Niall’s bare chest. Not until Niall awkwardly coughed around the silence.

“I wanted to help,” Harry said, his eyes still on Niall’s chest. “I feel so horrible. I spilt that disgusting drink all over you. I’ve been watching you all night, and I finally got the courage to come over. I know you were probably trying to pull Wendy but I thought I’d still shoot my shot. Just can’t believe I tripped over my own feet and spilt a drink I didn’t even want all over the guy I do want. Someone bought the drink for me, it was too strong. I was trying to be polite. I think you’re so cute, and I couldn’t just let – I –I just wanted to help,” he rambled and pulled at his bottom lip shifting his weight between feet.

Niall heard his accent now no longer distracted by the loud music and boisterous crowd. Thick, deep and so deliciously English it reminded Niall of a home he hardly remembered. He liked the way the northern accent felt as it hit his skin. The words lingered in the open air and Harry’s gaze flickered up only when he realized he’d been staring at the patch of dark chest hair between Niall’s nipples. A flush spread over his cheeks and neck as he coughed around another apology. Niall kind of wanted to kiss him until the flush turned a deep red and moved down his whole body. It had been a while since Niall had gotten laid.

“Not much to help. I’ve gotta head back and put it through the wash. Not much fun drinking in wet clothes,” Niall said with a shrug, but his words hung in the air. The underlining lust heating the small bathroom.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I can get it dry cleaned or you could come to – well, I mean, I could wash it for you,” he offered stepping forward deeper into the privacy of the bathroom, and Niall liked the implications of those words.

Harry winced, and Niall tried to give him a reassuring smile. Because he wasn’t upset. He was alone in a bathroom with a fit guy, who was insinuated they should both head back to his. There was nothing to be sorry about. His eyes traveled back down to Niall’s bare chest like he couldn’t help it. Niall choked back a laugh.

“Really, it’s no big deal. Didn’t like this shirt anyway and needed an excuse to get out of here,” Niall said with an easy, flirty smile. He hoped Harry caught on to his subtle looks and raised eyebrows. It was now or never.

He actually loved the whiskey soaked shirt. It was the last birthday gift his father gave him, but liquor washed out and he didn’t like the sad look Harry was giving him. His bottom lip stuck out in a dramatic pout and his eyes were round and glossy. Niall just wanted to see him smile once more. He’d either pull Harry, fuck him into the mattress, and kiss his pretty lips until they’re both too tired to move or he’d go back to his motel room, wank in the shower, and pass out across the creaky bed. Either way, tomorrow he'd get back to the case at hand.

“You’re Irish?” Harry questioned leaning forward in amazement.

Niall nodded and Harry’s smile stretch so wide it looked like it hurt.

“I love Ireland. You’re like a pretty Irish flower all the way in America. I could have been so charming, I can’t believe I spilt that dumb drink all over you, you looked so good leaning against the bar like that, your fucking back muscles,” Harry whined and stomped his foot like he was about to throw a temper tantrum. Niall’s cheeks felt hot at the compliments, and Harry smiled. He rocked back on his heel and pulled at his bottom lip.

“You know I loved watching you tonight,” Harry said, and the way his deep raspy voice echoed against the bathroom walls went straight to Niall’s dick. He’d never been so attracted to one person. He felt like every cell in his body screaming for Harry, “I liked the way your eyes felt on me. I wanted to see if maybe I had a shot at making you laugh like Wendy did, maybe – shit – I don’t know. All I know is I tripped on the way. Always manage to mess everything up, sorry, again for ruining your shirt. You looked really good in it. Look really good without it too, if that makes it better,” Harry said and the words bled together in a drunken slur.

Niall felt hot at the words because he had liked how Harry’s eyes felt on him. He had searched through the crowd for him only to have Harry looking for him. His blood felt hot and he wanted to take, but there was a small voice in the back of his head telling him that this man was different. He wasn’t just a fuck. There was something in his dimpled smiled and deep accent. This scared Niall, and he ignored those feelings to focus on the slur of Harry’s voice, sloppy movements, and blown pupils.

“Are you okay, Harry?” Niall asked and watched the way Harry shifted and moved towards Niall at the sound of his name.

“Fantastic, Irish flower, you have such a lovely accent. Could listen to you talk all night. Always told my mom I would marry an Irish man. I was gone for them the moment I saw Cillian Murphy in 28 Days Later, I was fourteen,” Harry slurred and stumbled a little closer. 

Niall imagined a young Harry. He probably had wild curls that fell over brilliantly green eyes, a large smile that poked deep dimples in his round cheeks, and long lanky limbs that he didn’t quite know how to use. He wished he knew this Harry, that maybe he could have been the Irish boy that first caught his fancy. How different his life could have been. 

Harry stumbled forward in an attempt to get closer to Niall, but he lost his balance. He reached out and gripped the edge of the sink so he didn’t fall over. Niall saw the unfocused look in Harry’s eyes and knew what it was like to be three sheets from the wind. There was a sudden urge to protect humming under Niall’s skin. It wasn’t about craving the itching lust under his skin anymore. Now all Niall wanted to focus on was getting Harry as safe as possible.

“Where do you live, Harry?” Niall asked sliding his shirt back into place. Harry pouted and tried to hide it.

“Why would you want to know that?” his eyes jumped to Niall’s. “Are you propositioning me for sex?” He didn’t sound offended but rather excited. Niall choked on his laugh.

“No, mate,” – though Niall wasn’t against the idea of sex with Harry, quite the opposite – “I just want to make sure you get home safe, you know there’s been a few murders in town,” he said.

“Yeah,” Harry drawled out slowly, “I read the newspaper. How did you know that? I know you’re not from around here, I would remember a face like yours, Irish flower.”

Niall bit his lip held in his own flirty quip. The lie was there on the tip of his tongue, but so was the urge to be real with Harry just a little bit longer. Niall settled on the lie because he knew it would keep Harry safe.

“I’m an FBI agent. Here to try and help,” Niall said leaning back against the sink. 

He hoped he looked confident enough. He flipped open his badge quickly making sure to cover the fake name printed on it. Harry swooned just a little. His shoulders dropped, his hips rocked forward, and he smiled in a secret way that made Niall hot.

“Oh, Agent Niall Horan,” Harry practically purred into the empty bathroom. 

Wow, yeah, Niall wanted to wreck him. He wanted Harry chanting his name into the darkness like it was some kind of plea. But Niall bit his lip. He stopped. He reminded himself why he was here because even if Harry did want to be his one night stand, Niall’s priority was to make sure he made it home safe. He wasn’t losing anyone else to those bastard demons.

“Let’s get you home,” He said and reached tenderly for Harry’s arm.

They walked through the pub silently their arms brushing as they weaved through the crowd. Niall felt Harry’s energy like a warm blanket across his body, and it was nice that even in the crowded space he felt Harry. He didn’t look for Wendy at the bar because she didn’t cross his mind. Not with Harry pressed flush against his side.

There was a small group of people huddled by the door of the pub. A cloud of smoke rose from the middle of the group. They all huddled close to light their cigarettes in the brisk, night air. Harry wrapped his arms around Niall’s waist using him as a crutch to walk down the street. Niall’s eyes darted to the dark corners as they passed alleyways and streets. It wasn’t until Harry pushed a warm hand down his chest and over the lapels of his oversized suede jacket. Harry fiddled with the zipper.

“Look at this proper jacket,” Harry commented and pulled at the zipper to expose some of Niall’s shirt.

Niall liked the way Harry’s large but delicate fingers moved over him, but he noticed the goosebumps littering Harry’s exposed arms. The wind was light but left a chill behind, and no one should really be outside without a jacket. 

“You’re a nutter for wearing a see-through shirt in November,” Niall quipped with a laugh.

Harry laughed and shrugged. He said something about suffering for fashion, but Niall was too busy shrugging off his jacket to listen. He delicately draped his father’s suede jacket over Harry’s shoulders. Harry gripped at the sleeves. His eyes were wide and a little bewildered.

“No, Niall – I – really I’m not that cold,” Harry said with a violent shake of his head, but Niall cut him off with the raise of his hand effectively silencing the other man. There was a frown pulling at Harry’s face, and he tried to pull the jacket off, but Niall clasped his hands down on Harry’s shoulders to stop him. Harry huffed in defeat but snuggled under the material.

“You must be freezing,” he muttered.

Niall shrugged, but he felt the wind cooling the damp material of his shirt.

“I like seeing you in my jacket more than I mind being cold,” he confessed.

Niall didn’t flirt. He picked people up. The road got lonely, and Niall wasn’t a saint. But he didn’t flirt. Niall took the easy route. He slept with people who wanted a good time. Maybe flashed a few smiles and a few flirty comments, but he didn’t have to try. It was all very easy, effortless. They knew he was a one-night stand, and he wasn’t going to push too hard for sex. If he had to chase or impress, well, Niall didn’t play those games. With Harry, he wanted to. It scared him a little, but not enough to stop.

Harry’s blush was worth it.

Niall focused on the sound of Harry’s deep melodic voice rather than the wind chilling his damp shirt. They got a block from the bar before the streetlights dropped off and the wind picked up. Harry talked non-stop and about anything that came to mind. Niall didn’t mind Harry’s chatter he quite liked the soothing tone of his voice. Niall focused on the way Harry’s lips formed words as he shared stories about his mom and sister. He told Niall after his stepfather died, he felt lost and it was the reason he moved to the small town in America, thousands of miles from home. Niall listened as Harry rambled about America being different but also just like England. His words were slow and bled together with the wind and booze. They had a lot in common. Niall made small comments when Harry brought up a movie he liked or a book he’d read as a child.

Harry’s knees knocked together, and Niall had to catch him a few times when his feet got caught under him and he lost his balance. Niall liked sliding his hands around Harry’s waist gripping the loose skin around his hips and maneuvering Harry’s body in different ways. He liked catching him before he fell, and Harry liked it to. He gripped Niall’s hands keeping them on Harry’s skin.

Niall liked when Harry talked because when he wasn’t, he waited patiently for Niall to tell his own stories. Harry tried to pry a little deeper under Niall’s skin with his sweet smile and earnest eyes. Harry looked at Niall in a special way that made him want to empty his soul to him. The look in his eyes screamed interest and intent, and who wouldn’t want to spill their secrets to such a good listener. Harry asked about his interests and family, and Niall tried to keep it vague but he couldn’t stop himself from opening up to Harry. There was something about the man that brought Niall a comfort he’d never felt before. If his life were different, he knew he could fall in love with the Englishman. There was something in his heart that beat just for Harry.

Niall talked quietly about his small house in Ireland, and how his mother made the best roast. He hardly remembered what her hands felt like running through his hair or what her smile looked like aimed at Niall, but he remembered the smell of her Sunday roast. Harry smiled in a gentle way as Niall fumbled through the story. He choked on his words when he whispered that she was gone, ashes thrown over the cliffs and into the sea, because Niall’s mother had always loved the strength of the sea.

“Where in Ireland are you from?” Harry asked after a few beats of silence.

His voice was soft. Niall barely heard him over the wind. He studied the side of Niall’s face while he decided if he should lie to the Englishman or not.

“Mullingar, just south of Dublin, you’d like it there,” – he couldn’t help himself – “Never really stayed anywhere for too long though,” he muttered.

He knew his father would be disappointed. He always told Niall growing up in America to never, ever bring up Mullingar. It was the one place untouched by the Horan’s hunter lifestyle. Even when Niall’s mother was still alive, the young parents only hunted in Dublin. Mullingar was home. Mullingar was safe. But something about Harry felt that way too.

“I would love to see Mullingar,” Harry commented after a long stretch of silence. His smile and eyes were shining with fondness. “Once I’ve saved enough money, I’m going become a nomad and travel the country. Maybe I’ll take a road trip to California – see the pacific or something exciting while I blast “Little Red Corvette” by Prince.”

Niall threw his head back and laughed. Harry’s eyes brightened at the sound.

“First time I drove up the west coast, I played “Take It Easy” by the Eagles for 3 straight hours. Just rolled down all the windows and screamed out at the ocean. God, what a good day,” Niall said.

He smiled at the memory. Finn was beside him in the passenger seat some folklore book opened in his lap. Niall drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, but after the third time playing the Eagles’ song, Finn slid his noise canceling headphones on and listened to his own music.

Niall imagined Harry beside him with the windows down, warm California air blowing gently at his curls. Harry would sing along softly to the song giggling each time Niall restarted it, but he’d still sing every single time. Niall would reach for Harry and knock the book in his lap to the floor to tangle their hands together. It was a daydream that should scare Niall, but it felt too right. It felt like a memory rather, and Niall found he wasn’t scared of it. He welcomed the idea of a future with Harry in his Impala. He tried not to think about it too long though. Hope was a fragile thing.

“I live like a nomad, it gets old quick,” Niall said after a moment. He filed away the image of Harry in his passenger seat for one of those lonely nights.

Harry shrugged and sent Niall a soft, but teasing smile.

“Maybe you don’t have the right companion,” Harry said softly, almost like he was embarrassed by the implication – Niall wasn’t. “Or the right playlist.”

“Oi, don’t come for my playlist, it’s perfect,” Niall joked and squeezed the hand still wrapped around Harry’s waist. “You may be right about the companion part, thought. I’ve been alone for a few years now. I guess I could use a co-piolet.” Niall watched Harry’s ears perk.

Harry asked about the perfect playlist behind a secret smile and flushed cheeks, which launched them into a debate about music. Niall always had a passion for music. His old battered acoustic guitar was the only thing Niall brought from Mullingar. It was always in the backseat of his impala in a case covered in stickers from around the world a photo of his mother tucked inside. He even told Harry this through a nervous whisper, and Harry watched like it was the most precious story he’d ever heard. It made Niall’s heart skip a beat because music was his escape, and Harry wiggled his way in. 

He brought up Fleetwood Mac and Classic Rock but didn’t shy away from modern music bringing up a few Folk and Pop singers he loved. He moved his hands around dramatically and his voice raised a few octaves when he got particularly excited. Niall could feel himself loosening up because music was easy for Niall and being with Harry was easy. They started to yell and joke about music until he was crying with laughter and most of Harry’s bodyweight was rested against Niall. In the walk through the scenic town, Niall told Harry more than he told anyone. Harry knew him almost as well as Finn and Charlie did. He should be afraid of that, but he wasn’t.

They were at the mouth of a red covered bridge, and the darkness of the threshold made Niall’s skin crawl. He didn’t like the feeling that fell over them, and Harry felt it too because he shuffled just a little closer to Niall’s side. The bridge had a small plaque at the opening stating it was a town treasure. Harry explained how everyone thought the covered bridge was haunted, but he was sure that raccoons lived in the rafters. Niall stood a little closer as they walked towards the opening if only to be ready to protect Harry. They may just be legends, but Niall knew legends had a way of coming true.

To distract himself from the dark, Harry told a story about when he was in university and the rugby team jumped from the top of a covered bridge by their school. They all got sick and ended up losing the championship game. He wheezed with laughter by the end leaning his weight against Niall’s side. Not that he was complaining.

“What’s your degree in?” Niall found himself asking.

University was a touchy subject for Niall. He’d always dreamed of attending some snobby university like Oxford and studying something like sound engineering or performance. He thought about playing his guitar in the common room and checking textbooks out of the library. They were always just day dreams because Bobby homeschooled Niall until he started hunting full time only dropping Niall into public school when he had to be away for months. He envied Harry for being able to attend university and watch his rugby team jump off a bridge or sit through boring lectures.

“English, I wanted to be a writer. I’ve always had a passionate love affair with books,” Harry joked smiling sweetly. So sweet Niall wanted to taste.

Niall opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a long and low whistle and dark chuckle. It came from the darkness in front of them. Harry tensed a small gasp on his lips as he grabbed Niall’s elbow not expecting anyone to be in the bridge with him. Niall’s hand shot to the pistol on his hip, but he didn’t pull it. Yet. His eyes shot to every dark corner of the small bridge trying to make out the shape of their guest.

“So, this little twink knows a thing or two about books. I was waiting for you, Horan; you know I hate hunters getting in my way. Now, it looks like I’m gonna get a two for one,” a deep voice said. 

Harry huffed beside him, but the words struck Niall cold because he knew this demon. He could make out that thick southern accent anywhere. Jude. It was the same demon that killed Bobby over 7 years ago. He felt rage burning under his skin, but he just pulled Harry a little closer. He wasn’t going to lose anyone else.

“How about you fuck off,” Niall growled. 

He tugged Niall a little closer as a large man emerged from the left corner of the bridge. It wasn’t a vessel Niall had seen Jude in before. He liked to stick with burly men though. When Niall sent him back to hell all those years ago, he’d been in a lumberjack’s vessel with bulging biceps and a scar above his eye. Now Jude had wide set shoulders and a ripped leather jacket thrown over a ripped t-shirt. He looked like he could crush Niall’s skull with little effort. Harry shook beside him. He pressed himself closer to Niall until their bodies were molding together. Niall’s fingers curled around his gun already loaded with iron casted holy water. The large man crossed into the light. 

Before Jude made a move Niall muttered, “Christo.”

They man’s eyes blinked harshly and when he opened them they were a deep bottomless black. Harry screamed and Niall pulled his gun firing two shots towards the man.

“Son of a bitch,” Jude spit in pain. He doubled over, and Niall pulled Harry away not looking back as they ran through the streets. Niall focused on getting them back to Harry’s place. He knew those bullets wouldn’t hold Jude off for long and getting Harry as safe as possible was Niall’s only priority. Then he would worry about everything else. About the pit in his stomach taunting him for believing he could have a real moment with Harry.

“Who was that? What’s going on?” Harry asked frantically.

Niall locked the front door and ignored the questions pouring from Harry’s mouth. Niall didn’t have time to notice the soft sheer curtains he pulled closed or the worn leather couch that actually looked cool and felt soft as he pushed it in front of the door. He took in Harry’s neat and warm home. Niall wanted to mold into the couch with Harry curled in his lap some cheesy record playing on vinyl. He prepared the house not bothering to listen to Harry. He didn’t have time, and his heart was already broken in his chest. He knocked the thick ordinate frames off the wall appreciating the abstract bodies painted inside. Harry had good taste. 

Niall knew Jude would come for them, and those bullets wouldn’t hold him off for long. He didn’t have time for anything but getting Harry as safe as possible.

“Niall,” Harry yelled exasperated. 

He grabbed at Niall’s arm pulling him to a stop. Niall shrugged off his grip but bracketed both of his hands around Harry’s face. He tugged Harry a little closer and made sure the other man’s eyes were trained on him.

“You’re going to be okay,” he held Harry’s gaze trying to pour every emotion bubbling in his veins. He needed Harry to understand. 

“I need salt and paint,” Niall said as an afterthought and dropped his hands away from Harry’s face moving through the small home.

He moved through the home and riffled through the cabinets until he found the large cylinder of kosher salt, a can of red spray paint, and a thick Sharpie – this would work. He cursed himself for not having his Impala with him. The truck was full of holy water and weapons everything Niall needed to encounter a demon, but it sat in the parking lot of the run-down motel.

Niall caught site of a small notebook sitting open on the painted wood of Harry’s kitchen table. Slanted handwriting covered the pages and margins with an array of colors like it’d been used by dozens of different pens. Harry mentioned his leather-bound journal on the walk home. He whispered so earnestly about all the thoughts and memories the journal held. Anything important that popped into Harry’s head was scribbled on those pages, and Niall felt an itching need to save them. He snatched it from the table before making his way back to the living room. Harry stood in the center his gaze taking in the dishevelment Niall caused.

“This the journal you were telling me about?” Niall asked and shoved it into Harry’s hands. He looked down at it in shock and confusion but nodded weakly. 

Harry turned the notebook over in his hands a few times. He looked down like the thing held the answers to the universe. While Harry was frozen in fear and confusion, Niall laid a salt line around him. This insured a demon wouldn’t be able to get to him. They’d have to go through Niall first. He moved to the door without a word uncapping the spray paint. He drew out the ancient demon sigil his father taught him when he was 7. It was meant to hold them off. Harry squeaked when the paint made contact with his wall, but Niall kept spraying. He made sure every protection symbol was perfect. These sigils would only stall Jude. At the very least, Niall needed to know he tried his hardest to keep the other man safe. He traced a demon trap on the floor of Harry’s dining room with the remaining cherry red spray paint and covered it with an ornate rug. Harry looked around in horror.

“What’s going on?” He asked again. 

This time his voice was strained and loud. Desperate. He stepped out of the circle rounding towards the other man and Niall turned sharply.

“Behind the salt,” he ordered while moving a bookshelf in front of the window.

When Harry didn’t move, Niall pointed firmly towards the circle.

“Ni, please, tell me what’s going on?” Harry asked again.

This time his voice was small, scared. It cracked around the words like they were lodged in his throat. It stunned Niall who turned and saw Harry folding in on himself. His shoulders hunched over and his arms wrapped tightly around his middle with the journal nestled in-between. Niall approached him quickly and guided him gently over the salt.

“I can’t explain right now, but you need to stay in this circle. It’ll keep you safe,” Niall reconsidered after a moment, “I’ll keep you safe. You need to trust me.” 

He rubbed his hands up Harry’s arm and rested one on his shoulder. Niall squeezed while he rested his other hand on the back of the younger man’s neck. He bent forward to try and catch Harry’s gaze.

“I only met you a few hours ago,” Harry protested weakly as he avoided the other man’s eyes. Niall tightened his grip on Harry’s neck; not enough to hurt, but enough for him to know Niall wasn’t going anywhere.

“I know, but you’re also the only person I’ve ever told about Mullingar and my obsession with golf,” Harry swallowed at Niall’s words, “Do you trust me, pet?” Niall asked again

Harry’s eyes shot up at the term of endearment, and Niall hadn’t meant to say it. It tumbled past his lips like some Freudian slip, but he liked the way Harry’s muscles relaxed after. Their faces were only a few inches apart. Niall felt Harry’s frantic puffs of breath against his cheek, and the skin under his palm was hot. Niall liked the way light sparkled in Harry’s eyes, and he liked that he saw every fleck of color this close. It’d be so easy for Niall to pull Harry forward and kiss him, but he’d think about that later when death wasn’t an immediate threat.

“Yes, yeah, I trust you,” Harry whispered and licked his lips.

His gaze jumped from Niall’s wet lips back up to his eyes before he nodded with a bit of finality like he actually believed himself. Niall didn’t have time to think about how soft and deep those words sounded on Harry’s lips. He squeezed the back of his neck in response before dropping his hands, but he wasn’t ready to move away. He ignored the rumbling of emotion in the pit of his stomach and the urge to kiss Harry. 

“Unbutton your shirt,” Niall muttered.

Harry didn’t hesitate. He kept Niall’s stare and stumbled with the three buttons he’d bothered to do. Niall uncapped the permanent marker and stepped closer to until their toes bumped together. Harry’s mouth dropped open when Niall put the marker against his skin tracing out the anti-possession sigil between the birds on his chest and the moth on his abdomen. Harry whimpered looking down at the Sharpied sigil, and then up at Niall.

“Ni, what is that?” He choked out as Niall reached for his shirt and started to button it slowly still leaving a majority undone the way Harry had it earlier. Niall remembered the way he looked in the florescent lights of the bar bathroom. He longed to be back there. Niall wished he had kissed Harry. He decided that would be his biggest regret. 

“It’s going to keep you safe. I’m doing everything I can to keep you safe. Do you work with books, H?” Niall asked keeping his voice as soft as he could.

Harry shrugged dumbly after a moment his gaze back on Niall’s lips. They were too close, but Niall stayed where he was.

“I mean, I’m a second-grade teacher, but on the side, I do some private buying for an antique book shop in town,” Harry said and shook his head in terrified confusion. “Why?”

“It’s complicated, but that guy on the bridge, he’s looking for a rare book – thinks it’s here. It’s really important he doesn’t get his hands on it,” Niall explained.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows for a moment and looked over his shoulder towards the back of his house.

“I got a book in the mail a few weeks ago. It was addressed directly to me but not on any order list. I couldn’t figure out where it came from. I’ve seen a lot of rare books, but not like this one, and the case was locked. I’ve tried everything to get it open – even attempted to break it,” Harry stated already making his way towards the back of his house not even looking over his shoulders as he continued to speak. Niall hated the way his heart jumped into his throat when Harry left the safety of the salt circle. He followed Harry quickly down the hall because he wasn’t letting Harry out of his sight until Jude was dead. 

He pushed open one of the three doors down a long hallway. It was a simple bedroom with light linens and more framed art, but it was lived in. There were stacks of books of the desk, and a glass half full of water beside the large king-sized bed. Harry went right to the small closet and bent over rummaging through his closet. Niall stood in the door and tried not to stare at Harry’s ass. Harry pulled a beautiful wooden case from a ratty duffle bag and held it out to Niall. There were inscriptions carved in to the front that Niall instantly recognized, some were for demons, others for protection. Looking at it, Niall finally understood why it was so hard to find. Someone was trying their very best to hide. Most of the sigils Niall recognized were to ward off anything supernatural, but there were over a dozen that Niall had never seen before. They only felt the book because the magic was too strong to hide completely. He grabbed the book and turned the locked case over in his hands once before all the lights in Harry’s house exploded. 

Niall’s insides froze, and Harry jumped in surprise. He moved closer to Niall almost molding his taller body against Niall’s back. 

“Get in the circle,” Niall said sternly, “now.”

“Ni, I don’t understand,” Harry whined as Niall dragged him to the line of salt. His eyes darted around the empty space hoping he could sense Jude approaching. He threw the cased book back into the duffel bag dropping it beside Harry.

“Under no circumstance should you break or step out of this circle. It’s life or death, H,” Niall said sternly, and Harry nodded his eyes wide.

“Call me pet again,” Harry breathed as he stepped in the circle. He toed at the edge and slid his body as close to Niall as he could get. The front door rattled as Jude attempted to break the power of the sigils.

“What?” Niall asked and wrapped his hands around Harry’s waist. His fingers were tight against the plush skin of his hips. He pushed him away from the salt line and deeper into the circle.

“Please call me pet again,” Harry pleaded as his cheeks flushed red, “I don’t care if it was an accident. I really- it just made me feel safe, please, I need that feeling right now.”

Niall felt something stir deep in his chest and his heart throbbed like it was desperate to get to Harry. He stepped into the circle and crowded Harry. He slid his hands up Harry’s sides and over his shoulders until he cradled his face. Harry’s body molded and moved with Niall easily, and his green eyes were locked on Niall’s blazing gaze.

“Harry, pet,” Niall whispered softly and Harry sagged against Niall as he ran his thumbs over the other man’s cheeks, “I’m going to keep you safe, I promise.”

If Niall was serious about one thing, it was making sure Harry was safe. The confused man nodded weakly and curled in on himself in the center of the circle when Niall finally stepped away. Niall’s eyes darted around the room looking for something he could use. The trap was Niall’s best bet. He’d hidden it under an ornate area rug Harry put in his dining room. Jude was out there, and he was harnessing his power. 

The house shook and Harry fell to his knees in surprise. He pulled his journal tight against his chest, and Niall braced himself. All the windows in Harry’s home shattered simultaneously. He shrieked in surprise, but Niall didn’t have time to check on him. He reminded Harry to say in the circle as his back door crashed open. Jude’s silhouette stood menacingly in the opening. He chuckled while casually walking into the house. 

“Horan, did you think that was going to stop me?” Jude asked.

“Oi, fuck off, wanker,” Niall sneered, “I don’t need those to stop you.”

He reached for his gun quickly firing two shots and sending Jude towards the trap sketched on the ground. Jude hissed his eyes going back while blood gurgled from the wounds. He stuck his finger in the bullet hole and laughed manically. With the flick of his wrist, he knocked the gun from Niall’s hand. It flew across the room crashing against the wall. Niall had a demon-killing knife hidden in his boot, but he didn’t want to pull it. He wanted Jude to think he was cornered. Niall wanted Jude to feel safe. The demon smiled widely at Harry who cowered at the edge of the salt circle as close to Niall as he could get. The hunter surged towards his gun. Jude held out his hand, and all the air was cut off from his lungs. He choked and struggled against the demon’s hold.

“Niall!” Harry wailed and stepped forward.

“No-“ Niall croaked while Jude tightened his grip around his neck and lifted Niall from the floor. His feet dangled just an inch off the ground and all the blood drained from Niall’s face.

Harry cried but stayed at the edge of the salt circle. Jude loosened his grip as he sauntered towards the frightened man. Niall collapsed to the ground and wheezed for air. His vision blurred and spun. Jude put a sweet smile on his face. He turned to shoot Niall a look because he thought he won.

“The sigils were to protect this pretty little fairy,” Jude taunted and looked over Harry slowly. Jude leaned as close to Harry as he teetered along the edge. “Irish flower, isn’t that what you called him in the bar. Originally, I was just going to kill ya for fun because I can tell little Horan likes ya.” 

Niall’s stomach turned violently. He went over every moment in the bar, but he didn’t remember Jude’s vessel in the crowd. He hadn’t sensed any danger, too distracted by Harry’s big green eyes and the shots Wendy and her friends passed him. Jude had been there, and he listened to him and Harry flirt in the bathroom. Niall felt sick. 

“I’ve known Irish a long time – I killed his father, ya know,” Jude taunted, and this is what Niall hated most about him. He never shut up.

The comment caused rage to bubble over. Niall reached for the bottle of holy water in his jacket uncapping it with his mouth. He launched it towards Jude. He wailed as it burned and blistered his skin. He hissed and his eyes turned a soulless black. He whipped around ready to fight but Niall surged forward with Harry’s iron poker grabbing it from where it rested beside the fireplace. He swung the iron rod into Jude’s slide sending him to the ground. He stabbed the sharp poker through Jude’s shoulder. Blood dripped over the rusted iron, and Jude sank against it in exhaustion. Niall used all his strength and pushed Jude’s looming body into the trap.

Jude gripped the iron rod and pulled it from his body. Thick drops of blood stained the carpet, and Jude tossed the iron rod into the kitchen. It clanged loudly as it hit the counters. He barred his teeth and started at Niall with black eyes. He ran forward, but was halted at the edge of the rug. He grunted and tried again. When he couldn’t move forward he growled and swept the rug away revealing the dried red spray paint.

“What was that about sigils not being able to stop you?” Niall joked the cocky tone bleeding through his words. Harry had a child’s bible among his extensive collection of books. It wasn’t Niall’s first choice but it would work. He flipped it open to the important text his father burned into his brain at 9 years old.

“Yer gonna regret that,” Jude threatened, but Niall had already started the exorcism.

Jude wailed and groaned, and Harry yelled over Niall, but he concentrated on the words. Black surged through the vessel’s veins and an animalistic cry came from his mouth. Harry screamed, but Niall blocked it out and kept chanting. He ignored the cracking of Jude’s bones. Everything was going as planned. He’d gotten half way through the exorcism before a weak voice came from the front door. 

“What’s going on?” the soft voice asked. The door had been knocked off the hinges from the way Jude used his power to send it crashing open. He’d ripped the locks off the wall easily and the couch had been pushed across the floor. A small girl with curly blonde hair stood in the opening. She wore a yellow dress with printed flowers and black sheer tights that were ripped at the knees. Even in the dark Niall saw the freckles across her cheeks. He recognized her. 

Niall stopped by the antique bookshop Harry worked for earlier that day. He half expected to find the book in the tiny over stocked shop. Most of the books had dust covering them. He’d looked through every shelf, but there hadn’t been a trace. Niall spent hours talking with the owners Billy and Miriam. He asked about their inventory and the few orders they had on the way. They hadn’t mentioned Harry or anything about extremely rare books. Niall remembered photos of this girl on the desk. Some were from school and others from family vacations. She was the bookshop owners’ daughter.

“Kelly?” Harry questioned. He looked stunned, but there was recognition in his eyes. He approached the edge of the salt, and Niall wanted to call out to him remind him not to move, but the words got caught violently in his throat. Something was wrong. “Kelly, get in the circle.”

Harry waved frantically towards the pristine line of salt, and Kelly’s small frame moved forward but she fell to her knees instantly. She cried out in pain. Harry looked at Niall and then Jude trapped in the spray paint before he stepped out of the circle and rushed to her side. 

“Harry-“ Niall screamed, and the air got caught in this throat again. It was like something was physically stopping him from speaking. 

He dropped the bible and turned to Jude, who stood at the edge of the trap a smirk on his lips. Harry kneeled beside Kelly’s body looping his arms around her waist and dragging her towards the salt. 

“Did you really think I came alone?” Jude asked. 

All the confidence drained from Niall at once, maybe the demon had won. As Harry helped Kelly to her feet, Niall rushed towards them. He yelled Harry’s name letting the terror leak through his voice. Sweat started to line his brow. He got two steps before Kelly smiled manically up at him. Her eyes were a searing red.

“Nialler, baby, tell me you missed me,” she said in a thick Irish accent.

Niall hadn’t expected Ruth. She was a crossroads demon Niall knew well. She had been following him for the past three years trying to cause as much mayhem as she could. She was a bored demon with a spice for malice. She talked in a thick Irish accent and called him Nialler because she thought he liked it. Finn said Ruth had a crush on him. The killing was her way of pulling ponytails on the playground. He didn’t appreciate the trail of bodies quite as much. The last time Niall saw her, she was in the body of a redheaded nurse. She’d tried to burn him alive inside an old morgue.

Kelly smirked at Niall over Harry’s shoulder throwing her hand up and sending Niall across the room. His body collided with the wall, and he groaned on impact. Harry’s mouth dropped open in shock. He untangled himself from Kelly quickly staring at the scene in horror. Kelly grabbed Harry’s arm digging her nails into his skin. He yelped and struggled, but she slapped him across the face.

“What the hell, Kell?” Harry said trying to reach for his cheek. Niall saw the red outline forming against his pale skin. Another wave of rage crashed over him. He staggered to his feet and grabbed the iron poker. His wrist throbbed, and he knew it was probably broken, but all his focus was on the pained look in Harry’s eyes. Niall wanted to see Harry smile again like in the pub and on the walk home when he talked about his mom.

"Oh darling, Kelly’s long gone," she snickered before her eyes went completely red, “plus, Niall’s mine. I didn’t appreciate all those things you said you’d like him to do to you tonight at the bar.” 

She tossed Harry across the room. She had more power than Jude, and Niall shouldn’t have been naïve enough to think he was alone. Harry slid against the floor cradling his ankle. Niall yelled his name and Harry started crawling weakly towards the circle. Niall swung the iron towards Kelly. It cracked against her arm and broke the bone instantly, but she just laughed. Before Harry had the time to crawl back into the circle, Kelly tossed him across the room again. His shoulder hit his glass coffee table and shattered it. Rage surged through Niall, and he charged at the demon with the fire iron tight in his fist. He swung at her side, but she dodged the blow and kicked Niall in the gut. His back hit the floor with a resounding thump. Kelly crawled over Niall’s body and smirked triumphantly as she settled on his hips.

“I fucking love playing with you, baby,” Kelly leaned down licking slowly at the blood dripping from Niall’s hairline, “Wish I could take you apart, but I haven’t got time.”

She kissed Niall soundly on the lips before she sauntered towards Harry. He struggled in her grip, and she laughed as she traced the permanent marker on his skin. It took one blow to knock Harry unconscious. Niall couldn’t help himself when he called out for the other man. The last thing he saw was Kelly’s smirk. Then everything went black.

Niall heard whimpering beside him. He blinked open his eyes slowly, but the room around him spun and bile rose in his throat. He groaned weakly and focused on the sound around him as he blinked away the darkness. Harry’s house was in disarray. It no longer looked like the lived in, cozy cottage they’d arrived at. Broken glass littered the floor, and the spray-painted sigils were covered in black soot. He pulled at his wrists, which were tied tightly to one of Harry’s kitchen chairs. The roped rubbed the skin of his wrists raw.

“Harry,” Niall croaked. He tried to lift his head but his body protested. All of his muscles felt weak and abused. Niall wanted to crawl into bed and sleep forever.

“Niall,” Harry cried in relief, and the body close to his shifted beside him. “Thank God.”

Harry was in a similar position to Niall. Both of their hands were tied behind the chair, and they were positioned facing each other. Their knees were slotted together. Niall saw the sigil still intact on Harry’s chest. There were cuts and gashes all over Harry mixing with sweat, dirt, and dried blood. Niall hated the way blood dripped over Harry’s bright yellow shirt. There were scratches sliced into the floor to break the demon trap. Jude was no longer trapped inside, and the salt circle had been broken. The duffel bag holding the cased book was gone. Niall cursed under his breath. He looked around Harry’s house for clues of where the demons went because if they were really gone, he and Harry would be dead.

“Tell me what the fuck is going on,” Harry said.

He sounded mad, which Niall understood but didn’t want. He swallowed the nerves in his throat. He wanted to reach out and run his fingers through Harry’s hair. He wanted to lean their foreheads together and promise to get him out of here alive, but he didn’t want to lie.

“Monsters are real. Ghosts, vampires, demons,” Niall said and Harry snorted in disbelief even after all he’d seen. “I’m serious, H. I’ve been fighting these monsters with my dad since I was a kid. Those demons are after that stupid book. It’s powerful. More powerful than you can imagine, and they will kill us for it. Just like they killed Abby and every person before her.”

“But Kelly-“ Harry started to protest, but Niall cut him off in frustration.

“That’s not Kelly. Not anymore,” he yelled. 

Harry’s mouth snapped shut and frowned.

“H, I know this is a lot to take in, a lot to believe. Just know, I’m gonna make sure you’re okay. I’ve dealt with these demons before. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise,” Niall said and reached for the small blade hidden in his belt. 

“So, what the big one said about your dad, and Kelly about you being her’s, all that was true?” Harry rambled in disbelief. He pulled at his arms like he wanted to get away.

“Jude killed my dad when I was 18, and Ruth is a demon I’ve been fighting against for a few years now. We have history, I know how they work, and I will get you out of here alive. I promise,” Niall said, his voice intense and hoarse.

Harry bit his lip, but he nodded, and that was all Niall needed.

He picked away at the rope’s thread just as Kelly reentered the living room. She bounced as she walked like an excited child. Not expecting them, Niall jumped and tightened his grip on the chair behind him. He kept slowly picking at the material around his wrists. She sauntered straight to Niall and dropped in his lap, making sure her legs rested over Harry’s thighs, and wrapped her arms around Niall’s neck. She kissed his cheek sweetly.

“Can’t believe how long it’s been, baby,” she whined and racked her fingers through Niall’s tussled hair. He felt her lips against his temple. “4 months since Wichita,” she whispered.

“Don’t you have souls to steal, Ruth?” Niall spat.

“We need your help getting the case open,” Kelly stated with an exaggerated eye roll.

“Like I’m going to do that. I’ll die before I open that case for you,” Niall scoffed and squirmed under Kelly’s weight.

She just laughed before bending down to place as aggressive kiss on his lips. Niall struggled against her, but Kelly continued to kiss down his neck. She sucked and nibbled at a spot below Niall’s ear until a deep purple bruise was left behind. He resisted the urge to push her off. Kelly stared at Harry through her eyelashes as she darted her tongue out to lick over the hickey. 

Kelly lifted Niall’s shirt and scratched her nails down his chest before tracing over the small tattoo on his hip. His father had given it to him after he killed his first monster. It was an initiation of sorts. Bobby let him drink half a bottle of whiskey before tattooing the anti-possession sigil on his left hip. He hated needles and passed out the second his father finished. Kelly ran her fingernails over the sigil and dipped her index finger below his pants where half the tattoo covered.

“Stop,” Harry protested. There was edge to his voice, but it wasn’t intimidating. 

When they both turned to him, his eyes were on where Kelly tugged on Niall’s belt loop. Kelly giggled. She leaned forward and bit Niall’s earlobe. She pulled it between her teeth, and Niall held back the shiver than ran down his spine. He kept his eyes on Harry.

“Harry wants you to fuck him,” Kelly whispered against the shell of his ear. “I can feel it. Smell it. He reeks of lust and attraction. It was also all he talked about tonight at the bar. Bunch of dirty stuff about ripping off your ill-fitting flannel and, what was it Harry, swallowing him whole?”

Harry’s face was beat red, and he averted his eyes to his dirty loafers and Niall’s steel-toed boots. Kelly laughed wildly and rocked in Niall’s lap. Niall bit his lip. He wanted to smile, but he also didn’t want the demon to know how much he liked the thought of being with Harry. But she sensed it and pulled back.

“You want to fuck him too, don’t ya, babes?” Kelly asked with a wicked smile. It looked sharp like it could slice Niall’s throat. 

She dug her nails into Niall’s chest until blood started to trickle down his abdomen. He hissed and clenched his teeth.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Niall seethed.

“But I do know,” Kelly said and snaked her hand into Niall’s lap squeezing gently around his crotch. He bit his lip and resisted the urge to gasp. “I can feel it.”

Kelly turned to Harry. She reached out and slid her small hands into Harry’s curls tugging his head forward sharply. Niall grunted his warning and bucked Kelly in his lap like he could throw her off at any moment. She frowned and tugged harder at Harry’s head. He whimpered.

“Maybe I should use him. Then we’ll all get what we want,” Kelly said. She tightened her fingers in Harry’s hair but kept her eyes on Niall. “Want to fuck me in his body, Nialler?”

“Oh, piss off. I’m not fucking you,” Niall spat but didn’t push her away. He knew she’d only take it out on Harry. Niall saw the tears rimming his eyes as Kelly tugged harshly on his hair. Niall knocked his foot against Harry’s loafer until his green eyes found him. Niall just nodded. He wanted Harry to know he was confident. This wasn’t over.

“You mean you’re not fucking me again, remember Reno,” Kelly purred and released Harry to wrap her hands around Niall’s neck. She cut off his airflow but only enough to make the tips of Niall’s fingers tingle.

“You tricked me,” Niall reminded the demon in a strained voice. She tightened her grip.

Niall had been in Reno on a Hell Hound case 2 years ago. It was Ruth collecting some stray souls whose deals were up. She possessed a man named Josh. He had soft blond hair that hung in his eyes and strong arms. Niall went home with Josh after a few beers at the local bar. Easy sex like Niall always chose. Except it hadn’t been Josh. It had been Ruth, and she never let him live it down. 

Kelly pouted. 

“It’s cause you prefer boys, which doesn’t seem fair,” she said and crawled out of Niall’s lap and onto Harry.

Niall felt sick, and he wanted to reach for the knife in his boot. He wanted to lodge it into the back of the demon and send her back to Hell. She wrapped her arms around Harry’s neck dangling both of her legs over his right thigh. Kelly leaned down to nibble at Harry’s earlobe. He whimpered again and moved away from her touch like it hurt, but she just chased him.

“He’s so good, Harry. Niall knows how to fuck an orgasm out of you, he did unspeakable things to my vessel’s ass, it would make you blush,” she joked her accent thick and exaggerated.

Harry gulped, and the tips of his ears pinked. Kelly opened her mouth to tease Harry, but Jude stomped into the living room effectively cutting her off. He growled as he approached them and lifted Kelly from Harry’s lap easily tossing her across the room. The cased book clattered to the floor a few feet from her, but Niall's eyes snapped towards where Jude towered over Harry. Jude didn't say anything as he pushed Harry’s shoulder sending his chair toppling backwards Harry with it. His head hit the floor with a deafening crack. He groaned while Niall pulled against his fraying rope. He used the small knife to cut faster. 

“Fuck you,” Niall struggled in his chair trying to catch Jude’s attention, but the large man knelt beside Harry.

He twisted his fingers into the front of Harry’s shirt and yanked him forward. Harry groaned and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as Jude manhandled him on the floor.

“The twink had a hex bag hidden in his room,” Jude seethed.

He leaned closer to Harry. So, close his spit hit Harry's cheek and sat on his skin. A glistening glob that that Harry made a face at.

“A what?” Harry squeaked. He closed his eyes like he was trying to concentrate, and his voice cracked from stress and exhaustion. Niall wanted to leap forward and get Jude as far away as possible. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched Harry shrink under Jude's harsh hands.

“This protection hex bag. You must have some witch on a tight leash,” Jude said and slammed Harry back onto the floor. He threw the tiny bag onto Harry’s chest, who frowned as he stared at the lavender adorned hex bag.

“You’re wasting time, what do we care if he knows a witch. She’s not here to protect him, and we’ve got Horan right where we want him,” Kelly muttered.

She brushed off the dirt on her dress, popped her dislocated shoulder back into place, and picked the book off the floor. Jude rolled his eyes, but stepped away from Harry leaving him on the floor. Tears stained his cheeks, and Niall swore he heard the way Harry's body shook in fear. It broke everything in Niall. 

Kelly had the cased book held tightly in her hands. Jude snarled in her face when she pushed him out of the way to get to Harry. She lifted him back into a sitting position easily and plopped right back on his lap. Jude crossed his muscular arms over his chest and loomed over all of them.

“You’ve spent the better part of the night trying to fuck Horan, I’m just trying to get the book and get the out of this nowhere fucking town. If this witch gave him anymore protection, we could be in real trouble. How do we know this spell is gonna work? So what if the book was with the twink, it doesn’t mean he’s important,” he complained.

Kelly sneered and then pulled a thin blade from her chest. It gleamed in the dim light of Harry’s living room. Niall's breath got caught in his throat, and he saw Harry's eyes widen in horror.

“It’ll work, and if it doesn’t, we’ll drain him and try again with Nialler's blood,” Kelly said with a sickening smile at Niall. 

He struggled against his restraints, and Harry’s eyes doubled in size. Kelly’s smile was gleeful as she traced the sharp knife over Harry’s cheek. She nicked the blade across his nose. Harry hissed as blood dripped over the thin cut that looked more like the bridge of a pair of reading glasses. Niall hated the way blood dripped over Harry’s pink lips. It made his stomach turn. He forced himself to look away.

She cut a deep wound across his collarbone and held the case against the dripping blood. It seeped into the wood of the case while Kelly chanted in Latin under her breath. She still sat casually in Harry’s lap as blood fell over his skin and moved through the intricate details of the book’s case. Sparks and a gleaming white light busted from the symbols on the case before the lock unlatched and Kelly pulled the book out. She giggled gleefully and bounced in Harry’s lap. Even Jude cracked a small smile seeing the book free. Niall took this opportunity. Both demons had let their guards down. They thought they won. The room settled in awe of the book, and Niall leaped from his chair. He grabbed Kelly around the neck putting her into an effective chokehold long enough to grab the demon killing blade from his boot.

He wrapped his fingers around the silver handle gripping it tightly. He plunged the sharp blade straight into Kelly’s stomach. Her eyes flashed with the same gleaming light as before and then her body fell limp in Niall’s arm. He shrugged her off of Harry immediately grabbing his face with his free hand and tearing his gaze away from Kelly’s body. Niall used the knife to cut the rope around Harry’s wrist while his free hand still held his cheek. He rubbed his thumb over his jawline. The cut on the bridge on his nose had stopped bleeding and the blood was dried against his skin, but the cut on his collarbone continued to drip a deep red.

It was a blink before Jude was on him. He yanked Niall away from Harry, and he fumbled with the knife before lunging it towards Jude’s towering stance.

“You fucking prick,” Jude spat and wrapped his hands around Niall’s neck.

Niall didn’t care that he immediately felt light headed as he gasped for air and swung to get free.

Jude dangled him in the air smiling as Niall’s vision tunneled and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Then Jude dropped to the ground. Niall gasped for breath and saw Harry standing with a shard of the chair he’d just been tied to gripped tightly in his fists. His mouth is dropped open in surprised, but Jude was on his feet again in a moment. His eyes were a soulless black as he turned on Harry. Bu that’s all Niall needed, a distraction. Niall didn’t blink. He didn’t even take another breath before he wrapped his hand around the dagger and charged towards the burly man. He stuck the dagger into Jude’s neck and watched Harry’s face drop in horror. Jude’s eyes flashed white before his body went limp.

Harry wailed. He dropped to his knees and wiped at the tears and blood on his cheeks. They mixed together and smeared red across his pale skin. His body shook as he knelt in the ruins of his home. His hands trembled in his lap as he clenched them into fists. Niall’s heart broke and he approached the younger man slowly. He looked up at Niall with devastated green eyes brimming with tears. Niall was nervous the other man was afraid of him now that the warm feeling that surrounded them all night was gone. That thought broke Niall’s heart the most.

“You’re okay, Harry,” Niall whispered softly and kneeled beside the shaking man. He ran his hands over Harry’s trembling shoulders. “You’ll tell the police you were attacked everything will be okay.”

Harry looked at him with wide, frantic eyes. He shook his head instantly and grabbed at Niall’s wrist with his shaking hands. His grip was bruising as he held Niall, and his movements were frantic as he shook.

“The police? What do you mean? You’re not gonna – are you leaving?” He said hysterically.

Niall softly plied Harry’s hand away from him, and then he bracketed Harry’s face in his hands holding him steady. He took slow breaths until Harry’s own synced up. Niall felt the muscles in Harry’s shoulder starting to relax.

“I need to make sure you’re safe. This book – this book is evil, and evil things are after it. It’s why I came to town, to find this book. It needs to be destroyed. But I’m going to make sure you’re safe first, H, don’t worry,” Niall said and pulled away because the urge to run his hands over more of Harry was too strong. He needed to put some space between them or he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to leave.

“Take me with you. Let me stay with you and be with you. I know I’m safe with you. I know I can trust you. How am I supposed to trust anyone else, how am I supposed to move on? I can pack a bag and leave tonight, I can come with you,” Harry pleaded his voice high, desperate, and frantic. His manic rambling scared Niall the most.

The tears dried on his cheeks, and Niall wanted to reach out and touch. He wanted to move his fingers over Harry’s flushed skin, but he stopped himself. He could dream all he wanted, but it was something he knew he could never have. It was time to stop pretending. It was time for Niall to wake up.

“Harry, I have to make sure you’re safe. We’ll call the police, I’ll close the case with my FBI badge. I’ll take the book. You’re safe,” Niall explained quickly and approached the book. There was heat radiating from it.

As soon as his hand wrapped around the bind of the book, it burned. It seared his skin until it’s burning red and hot like he’d held it over an open flame. He tried to pick up the book again but the same burning pain moved through him. He ripped off his flannel and wrapped it around his hand. The book was safer in the case. Before he grabbed the book with his covered hands, Harry lunged forward and wrapped his bare hands around the bind.

"Let me come with you," Harry begged and fresh tears leaked from his eyes as the book burned the palm of his hands.

His knuckles were white as he held Hell's book. Niall saw the way the bind burned his skin. Harry’s fingers blistered under the book, and he wound his teeth between his bottom lip.

"Harry, let go of the book right now," Niall snapped like Harry was a disobedient child. He reached for the book with his wrapped hands, but Harry pulled it out of his reach. It continued to burn his hands "Demons are killing people with the snap of their fingers for this book, God, it’s fucking searing off a layer of your skin right now. Let go of the bloody book, I'm getting it as far away from you as possible."

Harry shook his head tightening his grip on the book despite the sizzle of his skin. He whined, and Niall hated how it sounded.

"No," He wailed, "I’m not letting go until you promise to take me with you."

Tears tracked down his cheeks, and Niall held his breath. When Harry choked back a sob, Niall launched forward and grabbed the book ripping it from Harry's hands. There was little resistance as Harry’s fingers blistered and blood slid down his wrist. He sobbed cradling his burned hands against his chest. Niall threw the book back into the case snapping it shut. He made sure the lock clicked into place. Harry would not get his hands on that book ever again.

"You're okay," Niall said softly.

He kept his tone soothing and his touch light as he grabbed Harry's hands and tugged him gently towards the bathroom.

"I can't – please, you can’t leave," Harry whimpered, "take me with you."

Niall blinked his eyes frantically trying to starve off the tears welling in his eyes. He focused on cleaning and dressing Harry’s wounds.

"Okay," Niall whispered against his better judgement.

“Promise me,” Harry begged.

“I promise,” Niall whispered even if it was a lie. Even if he knew it was broken the second he made it.

Harry surged forward and kissed Niall. He crashed their lips together in such a haste it hurt. It was dry and frantic, but also warm and sent electricity through Niall's veins. Harry kissed him like it was the only thing keeping him alive, and Niall felt the Earth rock under him. This was unlike any kiss Niall ever had, and he didn’t want to ignore the way Harry’s lips felt against him. He wanted to kiss Harry for the rest of his life. The younger man ripped away after a moment. He heaved in a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized but then shook his head. “No – I’m not sorry. I’ve wanted to kiss you since we caught eyes in the bar. I’m so scared right now, you’re the only thing that doesn’t scare me. You’re the only thing that’s ever made me feel right."

Niall's heart throbbed in his chest, but he ignored it like he always did. He focused on Harry. There was burn cream in Harry’s organized first aid kit. It made Niall smile because his was just as organized. He spread the thick cream over Harry’s seared hands. The hospital would have to treat them correctly, but Niall needed to do something to help in the meantime. The pit in his stomach wouldn’t go away until he knew Harry was safe.

"You don’t really know me, Harry. I’m a stranger. I know this is hard and scary, but you're so strong. You’ll make it through this. Harry – you’re the most incredible man I’ve ever met,” He wrapped his hand around Harry’s wrist to squeeze, “I’ve been in awe of you since the moment we met. H, pet, you don’t belong in this life, in the life I can’t escape from. I'd fall in love with you if this was a different life, H," Niall said.

A fresh batch of tear sprang from Harry’s eyes as he cried, and shifted in his seat. He looked pained as Niall cleaned his wounds but Harry’s heartbroken gaze was trained on him. Niall concentrated on how he wrapped the bandage around Harry’s wounded hands. He kept his touch as gentle as possible, he knew how the pain of burns radiated through the veins. He wanted to kiss Harry’s tears away.

"But - But, you like Van Morrison and you play the guitar – I want to hear you play – and I can feel your laugh like a warm hug. I've never felt like this. I’ve tried to fall in love so many times, but Niall, with you everything is so easy. I don't want that to go away. I don't want you to go away," Harry said desperately.

Niall felt his heart break. He neatly put away Harry’s first aid kit. They were quiet and Niall lead them back into the living room where Jude and Kelly’s bodies lay. Harry's eyes lingered on where they lay in pool of dark blood. Niall grabbed his jacket and slipped his hand into the inside pocket. He had the coliform soaked rag ready far before even entering the diner earlier that night. It was a trick his father taught him. He led Harry toward the salt circle making sure it was closed before he turned on Harry quickly.

Niall grabbed the other man by the back of the neck. He hated and loved the way Harry moved pliantly. He let Niall pull him any way he wanted with a firm hand. Harry trusted him, and that made it worse when Niall placed the rag over Harry’s face. His eyes filled with betrayal, and Niall felt the salty tears on his own cheeks. 

“I can’t stop hunting. This is the only life I’ve ever known and I can’t live knowing those monsters are out there, but I’ll come back. As soon as the book is gone, as soon as it’s safe, I’ll come back, and if you still want me, you can have me. Because honestly, H, I think my heart may already belong to you,” Niall said through his own batch of tears where Harry’s eyes were still focused on him. 

After a moment, Harry's body went limp in his arms as he passed out. Niall placed him gently on the ground in the salt circle moving a stray curl out of his eyes before he turned away.

Niall called the Sheriff and staged the house. He sliced himself a few times with the blade so it looked like more of a fight. The police were there in minutes. The Sheriff thanked him as Niall explained the story about the satanic cult and their search for a book. He had been looking into Kelly and figured she’d be in danger. Niall found out she went home with Harry, who also worked at the book store. When Niall approached the home, the large man was there as well as other satanic worshipers. He fought to save Harry who was getting his hands burned. The story was very elaborate and all fake, but he knew the Sheriff wouldn’t question him. He told the man not to worry, that the town would be safe now.

A stretcher took Harry’s unconscious body away. They hooked him up to an IV and oxygen putting him in the back of a waiting ambulance, and Niall watched until the flashing lights turned off the block. He didn’t cry. Not when he told the Sheriff what happened, and not when he loaded the book into the back of his Impala. He didn’t cry until he crossed the border into Massachusetts when he realized he’d really left Harry behind.

Charlie and Finn were waiting for him on the front porch of their farm house. They lived in the middle of nowhere Indiana, and Niall liked the wide-open space. The closest neighbor was 12 acres away. It was quiet and secluded. The perfect place for a house of hunters. It'd been a few months since Niall had been home. Charlie wrapped him in a quick hug patting his back twice while Finn just squeezed his shoulders. They knew by the look in Niall's eyes, but they didn't ask. He was grateful for that. Niall let the Indiana sun wash over him and reveled in the way Finn’s horses galloped across open land. He wanted to feel peace but the first thought in his head was how much Harry would like this place; the farming, the rolling hills, and the horses. He saw Harry mixing perfectly with Charlie’s sarcastic humor and Finn’s dry tone. The daydreams made his throat close and the long-dried tears tracked on his face again. Charlie and Finn stayed quiet, but Niall felt Charlie's heavy deep brown eyes on him. He ignored it. He wasn’t ready to talk about Harry. He didn’t know if he ever would be.

Niall dove into work. He started researching folklore surrounding the book. He talked to witches and hunters who heard stories growing up. He tried to find any possible way to interpret the book. They needed someone who understood it so they could take down recordings and destroy the book that fed the Devil power. Niall was so obsessed with getting the burning book, the book that seared Harry’s hands, destroyed. Most nights Finn had to pull him away from dusty books or his laptop. 

Niall mentioned Harry once when it was way past midnight and the lamp light burned his eyes. Niall didn't mention his name, but Finn knew how important to strange man must have been by the look in Niall's eyes. Sometimes when he was doing research on his computer, he’d type Harry’s name into Facebook and look through his pictures, but he didn’t tell Finn that. There was a look in his eye that suggested he knew anyway.

Two months after Niall brought home the book, Charlie approached him at the kitchen table. The cancer had spread to his lungs in the last month, so, he resorted to pulling an oxygen tank behind him. He set the large metal cylinder on the table before dropping into the seat with a prolonged groan. Niall had three different books open and a webpage about Lucifer and the book opened on his laptop. He turned a few pages before Charlie cleared his throat and settled in the creaking chair across from Niall. He coughed twice, which got Niall's attention enough to offer him some water. Charlie refused with a gruff scoff, and Niall settled back in his chair.

“We’ve found a witch with ancient powers. She lives in Nevada, and we think she’ll be able to read the book. Finn will go to interpret. She also agreed to help us destroy it,” Charlie stated flipping one of the books closed. 

Niall’s stare shot up to him with his mouth gaped, and he knew what was on the tip of his tongue. At the very least he wanted to see the thing destroyed for Harry. 

Before he could say anything Charlie cut him off, “Finn’s gonna take care of it. You’ve had enough of that book. I think, it’s time you told me what happened in New Hampshire.”

Niall coughed around the lump stuck in his throat. It stopped the words from coming out, but Charlie sat patiently as his oxygen tank hissed beside him.

“I met someone,” Niall whispered. He chewed on the nail of his index finger and Charlie nodded for him to continue. There was a small smile hidden on his lips. One that only Niall could see after years under the same roof as the rugged man. 

“Harry – his name is Harry, and, fuck, Charlie, it was like what Da always said about Ma. There was this force field around him, and I felt drawn in or like I’ve spent my whole life looking for him. That instant connection, ya know. I saw a future with him the moment he introduced himself – scariest fucking thing that’s ever happened to me. He’s perfect. Dresses like a loon, but his voice is like honey and he tells these dirty jokes, Jesus,” Niall wheezed – “he’d have you lot in stiches. I haven’t stopped thinking about him.” Niall trailed off his mind going back to the night he met Harry. 

He launched into the full story. Charlie’s fists tightened when he mentioned Jude and Ruth. But the only details Niall remembered were Harry. That he was a teacher and antique book buyer. How it was sent to him in the mail unannounced. The way he screamed and cried or the way his hands shook after Jude and Ruth were gone. Niall remembered how incredibly green Harry’s eyes were, and that he wanted to drown in them. He’d give anything to go back to that night and change some of the memories in his head. He wanted to kiss Harry again, pull him under his arm, and escape together. Niall wanted to erase the look of betrayal in Harry’s eyes. He just wanted to hear Harry’s soft drawl and booming laugh. He just wanted Harry.

“Bobby said you’d always find your soulmate on a hunt. Horan men know what they want, and they know it right away,” Charlie said with a gruff laugh. He leaned back in the chair and studied Niall for a few minutes. “I think you should go get that boy. Tell him how you feel.”

Niall shook his head slowly. His lips pulled down into a deep frown, and he anxiously picked at the edge of a worn book page.

"Charlie, he was so scared that night. I can't bring him into this,” he waved around him with a deep-set frown, “I've lost too many people, and I'd rather have him out there somewhere alive than dead with me," Niall said avoiding the searing gaze Charlie gave him.

"Bobby never questioned his feelings, it's what made him such a good hunter. You know what your father would say, trust your gut, boy," Charlie explained, "We've got instinct and intuition for a reason. Don't ignore the way you feel about Harry because it might not happen again. Go get him. Harry is an adult, and he'll make the decision that’s best for him. If that's you, I don't think you have the right to tell him no."

Charlie stood after he finished and settled one last stern look at Niall before he stalked out of the kitchen pulling his oxygen tank behind him. Niall sat and absorbed what Charlie told him. The words sat on his skin and made him itch. Niall didn’t know Harry, not really, he knew the kind of music he listened to and what he studied in University, but they’d only spent 8 hours together. All Niall had was a feeling. A special and somewhat scary feeling that settled in his veins when Harry was close, but that feeling was enough for Niall to push away from the table and grab the keys to his Impala.

Harry’s house looked different in the daytime. Niall drove through the night and most of the morning before passing the border into New Hampshire. He didn’t want to wait any longer. Harry’s home was small painted white with bright blue shutters. The two large front windows had flowerboxes with lifted lilies and daisies. All the windows Jude blew out were replaced with shiny new glass and stickers with the company’s name on it. It looked beautiful and warm like a home Niall pictured the other man in, except for the “FOR SALE” sign adorned with a crimson red “SOLD” sticker plastered across it. Niall felt like the four-letter word like a stab in the heart. He stood at the front door for 15 minutes before he gained the courage to knock. He waited and knocked again, when no one answered, Niall circled the house and peeked through the windows. Harry was nowhere in sight. Two months is a long time, and Harry could be gone by now. He could be on the west coast listening to Prince and remembering a distant memory of blue eyes. This thought got caught in Niall’s throat.

There was only one elementary school in town, and it was Niall’s best bet at finding Harry. It was a small brick building with two flag poles in the front lawn. One had the American flag waving in the wind while the other had a hand painted flag with the school’s name on it – obviously made by the young students. He maneuvered his way through clusters of young children with sticky hands and overzealous shouts until he made it to the main office. He was required to flash his fake FBI badge in order to gain access to the school, but the elderly woman behind the desk still looked surprised to see him.

"I'm looking for Harry Styles," He said and flashed the woman as easy smile. 

He leaned delicately on the front desk. He didn’t know if Harry was still in town, but if not the school would probably know where he went. Or at least Niall hoped, and if he needed to, Niall knew how to be charm information out of anyone. He knew how to put on an act, and right now he would do anything to get to Harry,

The woman smiled, and leaned over the desk to look him up and down.

"Oh, you must be Niall. He's been talking about you non-stop," a secret smile spread across her face, "Broad shoulders that lead to a tiny waist, and my God, Ethel, you should see how blue his eyes get when he talks about music," Ethel mocked in an exaggerated British accent.

Niall's cheeks grew hot, but he nodded slowly. He couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips because Harry talked about him. Months had passed, and Niall was afraid Harry forgot about that night, about him.

"I'm glad you came back. He never had any doubt. Been saying for the last two months you were going to show up and whisk him away, but we could all see his hope dwindling time passed. You make that boy happy, and Harry deserves to be happy," Ethel said and reached across the desk grabbed Niall's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Niall didn't respond just nodded and headed towards the auditorium after getting the directions.

Harry was in charge of an after school music program. He taught some of the first and second graders guitar and kazoo. Ethel dished that they liked the Beatles songs, and she loved when they all sang “Here Comes The Sun.” When Niall rounded the corner, he heard the ending of “Isn’t She Lovely” by Stevie Wonder. Harry’s voice was deep and raspy in the most charming way, and the small group do kids chorused him. They all sat at his feet as Harry leaned back in a small plastic chair. Some of the kids had triangles and others had recorders. They all used their instruments when Harry nodded towards them. It was a little sloppy but overall Niall felt his heart melt inside his chest and shoot through his veins. He wanted to kiss Harry.

After the song finished, the kids shifted where they sat crossed legged on the stage of the auditorium. Niall kept in the back where the lights were dimmed. He didn’t want Harry to know he was here just yet. He was afraid of how Harry would react to seeing him after all this time. He may have been sure two months ago but time alters things, and Niall was afraid Harry changed his mind. Harry placed the guitar beside him and clasped his hands in his lap.

“I want to say a special goodbye because you guys helped me a lot after I got out of the hospital. And this is my last day as your teacher,” Harry said and the kids whined and booed. 

Harry shook his head but Niall saw the small smile tugging on his lips. But Niall’s heart was sitting in his stomach acid at the thought of Harry fresh from the hospital. Broken and alone. It made Niall hate himself. Why would Harry want anything to do with him? Niall was rushed with the possibility that Harry might say no. He might not want Harry, not after everything that happened. Not after Niall broke his promise and left Harry there, by himself.

“You’ll love Miss Amy, she’s wonderful. I’ll miss you all, but I have to find myself,” he said. Niall frowned and thought about the sold sticker on the “for sale” sign in Harry’s front lawn. 

“But where are you going, Mr. Styles?” A little girl screamed from beside his left boot.

Harry looked down at her with a fond smile. He patted the top of her head. She had soft blond hair pulled into two tight pigtails.

“I’m not sure yet, I think I’m just going to see the states in that old fashion road trip way. But there’s someone special I met, he lives the nomad life, and I just can’t get him out of my head, I think, you’ll understand when you’re older,” he said, and then said another goodbye to all the kids. 

They were shuffled out by a young woman. She had soft brown curls and cheeks full of freckles. She blushed red when Harry wrapped her in a hug, and Niall couldn’t help but relate to her. After a moment, it was just him and Harry, who was bathed in yellow stage lights, and Niall hidden in the shadows. He bent over to grab his guitar and placed it gently in the case. After he snapped it shut, Niall stepped forward. He couldn’t let Harry leave. 

Maybe he should have thought about what he wanted to say. Maybe he should have written a big speech bearing his soul to the other man, but Niall hadn’t done any of that. He didn’t even have a second thought after Charlie told him to go. He just drove, and now starring at Harry’s broad shoulders and muscular back he said the first thing that came to his mind.

“So, you’re taking a road trip?” Niall asked or stated he wasn’t really sure. He just knew that he needed to feel Harry’s eyes on him no matter what emotion was hidden behind them.

Harry froze. He dropped the guitar case, and it clattered against the wood stage echoing where Niall stood in the back of the auditorium. He whipped around the face the other man. He squinted against the stage lights, and Niall stepped forward walking down the aisle. 

“Niall,” Harry breathed, and it sounded like a sigh of relief. His shoulders dropped and his green eyes softened. 

Niall wanted to rush toward him. He wanted to scoop the taller man into his arms and pull his shoulders until he could kiss Harry breathless. He wanted to hear Harry say his name for the rest of his life. Something burned deep in the pit of Niall’s stomach, and he quickened his pace.

“Hey, H,” Niall uttered. 

He took the stage stairs two at a time as Harry took tentative steps forward almost like he was afraid Niall was all in his mind. Harry looked like some kind of mirage, and to be honest Niall wasn’t sure he’d believe it was really him until the other man was in his arms. 

“Fuck, pet, I missed you so much,” he said, and it didn’t feel like the right words to describe the feeling that settled over Niall when he was away. 

His eyes darted to Harry’s hands. He wrung them together, and Niall caught sight of the puckered scars. Harry hid his hands behind his back and his cheek flushed, but Niall didn’t care. He needed to be closer. He stopped when their knees bumped together. He felt Harry’s breath on his cheeks, and Niall wanted to close his eyes and just breath, so he did. He let his eye slid shut, and he took a deep breath. He smelled the sweet scent of Harry something he’d been dreaming about for two months. He felt the heat of the other man’s skin mixed with his scent.

“You should have come sooner,” Harry whispered. He gulped down his fear of Niall leaving again because his scent was just as comforting to Harry as his was to Niall. They needed each other, and he realized that the moment he woke up alone, but there was a part of Harry desperate for answers. 

Niall’s eyes were still closed, and he waited to open them. He didn’t want to see the disappointment or disgust in Harry’s eyes. He hated himself, but Harry’s hand slid around his waist, and when their gazes met Harry’s eyes were soft and a little sad.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Niall whispered. “I thought about you every day, I even stalked you on Facebook like some kind of teenager. I was stupid, I thought I was keeping you safe. The truth is I’m scared. Everyone I love was killed by monsters. I do dangerous things every day. I risk my life for a thankless job that no one even knows about, and I didn’t want to drag you into that life.”

“Harry, I’ve never met anyone like you. There was something about the way you looked at me when I rambled or the way your voice lingered on my skin that I’ve never felt before. The feelings you give me are new and intense, and I couldn’t ask you to join this life – to give up your dreams of riding down the west coast listening to Prince for me. You deserve the sun, and I don’t know if I can give it to you,” Niall said. 

Harry nodded slowly like Niall was a small child trying to tell his parents a story. It was like Harry was putting up with Niall’s antics because he had already made up his mind. Harry knew what he wanted. He’d been thinking about it for two months. He worked with his sister to try and track Niall down. Harry wasn’t afraid, and he wasn’t going to let Niall leave again. Not without him.

“You said you’d come back when the book was taken care of,” Harry said slowly. His arms still wrapped around Niall’s waist. “Are you here to tell me it’s safe or are you here to bring me with you this time like you promised,” he urged.

Niall lifted his hands to run his fingers along Harry’s jaw. There was a small mustache growing on his upper lip, He ran his thumb over it just catching where his lips parted, and Harry shuttered.

“We dealt with the book,” Niall said. Whispered almost. He wanted to keep the moment soft, and close.

He felt like cracking open his chest open and presenting his heart to Harry. He would be able to see how Niall felt about him. Harry would see his sorry heart bleeding and barely beating just for him. Harry’s name would be carved deep into the tissue.

“But do you want me, did you come to get me?” Harry asked urgently, but he kept his voice quiet like he was afraid of the answer.

Niall heard the stress in Harry’s tone. The way his shoulders tensed under Niall’s hands. He didn’t want that. Harry sounded so unsure, and Niall absolutely hated it. He moved his hands up Harry’s neck and into the soft curls on the nape. His hair was a lot longer than it was a month ago. The curls now brushed against his shoulders. Niall liked it. He liked running his fingers through the hair. He liked how Harry leaned into his touch. He kept his fingers light. He wanted to ground himself. He was surprised it didn’t scare him that Harry was able to do that. Niall’s thumb traced the veins of Harry’s pulse. It beat rapidly against the pad of Niall’s finger.

“I used to think my parents were stupid for believing in love. They were both born into families that hunted. They even met on a hunt. Neither stopped hunting after I was born, but they wanted to keep me out of it. But after my mother was killed, I was raised with a gun in my hand and a demon in my rearview mirror. Da moved us to the United States and I started hunting. It changed everything I thought my life was going to be because being in love, having a family, and fighting vampires didn’t go together. Maybe I’m brain washed, but I can’t walk away. I can’t sleep at night knowing there are monsters tearing people apart. I can’t walk away from a town like this –“ he waved his hands around them. 

Harry’s frown deepened, and he tugged on his arm just a little. Niall tightened his grip, not enough to hurt, but enough to send a signal to the other man. Harry hesitated, and Niall felt his pulse jump.

“My whole life, my Da told me there was one thing you could trust in life, and that was your gut, and, God, Harry my gut hasn’t stopped thinking about you. Da married my Ma after a week, and he always told me it was because Horan men know what they want. I never understood it because I never wanted anything. I never gave myself the luxury of wanting because it was never worth it. I never understood until I met you,” Niall said and let his hands drop from Harry’s neck.

Harry sucked in a deep breath his eyes shining under the harsh stage lights.

“Niall –“ Harry said, but his voice got caught in his throat. His body leaned forward chasing where Niall dropped his hands. 

Niall straightened his back. He needed Harry to know everything. He was here to bare his soul. He wanted Harry to know that he was in this for the long haul.

“I’ve never wanted anything, because I was afraid of losing it, but I want you. I want every little bit of you Harry, and I want it forever,” Niall pressed. He held his breath while he watched Harry.

The other man took a deep breath. Then he molded his body against Niall. His hands were at the nap of his neck, and Niall’s hands found their ways to the loose skin of Harry’s hips.

“I wanted everything as a kid. I’d tape pictures of the toys I wanted on my bedroom door,” Harry said. His voice was deep and slow, and it burned Niall’s skin. He loved it. He chuckled as he imagined young Harry taping ripped out pages from toy catalogs on his door. He longed to know more. He wanted to be able to picture a small Harry running around English fields.

“I was heartbroken when I woke up,” Harry stated, and Niall felt his heart break. The heartache started to rush through Niall’s veins when Harry continued, “I didn’t know where I was. Gem, my sister, she said I started screaming and punching. They needed to get security to sedate me. They admitted me into the psych ward. Then I was just numb. I didn’t talk or eat. I just slept and taught myself guitar because I thought you’d be impressed. I always hoped you’d come back even when I was mad at you. Even if it was just so I could yell at you. I always hoped.

“Then Gemma got me to talk. She asked about the good luck charm she gave me, and I started freaking out. I told her everything I remembered. My hands still ache at night,” – he flexed his scared fingers – “Gem told me that her first year at Uni, she was attacked by a werewolf. She said it was vicious and ruthless. It killed her friend, and Gemma said she felt different after. She couldn’t live with herself knowing there were monsters like that preying on people. She picked up magic by accident but it came to her easily because Gemma’s always been good at everything. She hunts with magic, so, I guess hunting runs in my family too,” He said.

Niall shook his head, “You need to understand, Harry – “ he argued, but Harry cut him off.

“I asked Gemma if she could find you. I found a tear of your shirt in the ruble of my house when I was discharged. Everything still had police tape on it, there was blood everywhere but there was a piece of that stupid flannel shirt. I was desperate. I sold my house and quit my job because to me you’re the most important thing that’s ever happened to me. I felt different after you. I couldn’t just keep living knowing you were out there somewhere. That you might be with someone else –“ Harry shook his head violently – “I want you, Ni, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything,” he said, “Please say you want me, too.”

“Fuck, of course, I want you, pet, you’re fucking perfect, feels like you were made just for me,” Niall sighed.

Harry launched himself into Niall’s arms plastering his body as close as it could get. He reveled in the warmth and safety that spread through both of their veins. This felt like home. When Harry kissed him, it was like the last two months disappeared and Niall remembered that burning heat that always seemed to linger under his skin with Harry’s touch.

“Proper sexy,” Harry said as they approached Niall’s shiny Impala. He splayed his hands over the hood and bent over the car like he was a girl in an 80s music video. It was nearly pornographic. Niall bit back his smile.

“Get in,” Niall said slapping Harry’s left butt cheek lightly. The other man yelped I’m surprised but smiled with his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, and wow Niall couldn’t wait to fall in love with him.

Harry scrambled towards the passenger door getting in before Niall even had his door open. He hated to think Harry thought he’d leave without him again. Niall never wanted to leave his side. 

Niall didn't want to go back to Charlie's. He wanted to finally introduce them to Harry, but Niall also just wanted some time to really get to know Harry. Because there was still so much Niall didn't know, was desperate to know. He just wanted to make sure he made the right point. 

Bobby had a trailer in the mountains of South Dakota, it was the first place he bought when he moved Niall to the United States. It was the place he learned to shoot a bow and arrow, and it was the only thing - other than the Impala - that had belonged to his dad. His lungs always felt a little heavier when he was in the trailer, but it was the one place he knew he and Harry would be alone.

Harry didn't question anything as they pulled out of town and headed into the open road. They drove in a comfortable silence as Niall passed state lines and drove deeper into the thick forests of the North West. Harry lounged back in the seat like he’d been doing it for years, and Niall liked the way the man looked in his car. It was familiar, and it was safe. Harry smiled gently when he caught the other man’s stare. He reached across the council and slid his large hand over Niall’s thigh. He gave it a reassuring squeeze like he was reminding the hunter this was the right choice. Niall's Impala barely making it over the gravely dirt road and groaned to a stop in front of the beat-up trailer covered in vines and beaten down with time.

There was a small breeze moving through the trees. It felt like Bobby was there watching as Niall peeled back the layers of his life to a near stranger. Niall felt oddly calm with this realization, though. The small mobile home had beige vinyl strips that were pulling apart and layered with thick grime. Vines weaved through the siding becoming it's own part of the home covering the trailer in a mossy green. The sun was rising over the mountains and casting abstract shadows around them. 

Harry stepped out of the Impala, stretched his arms high over his head with a satisfied sigh. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the forests. There were animals scurrying through the brush, and birds chirped happily in the tall evergreen trees. The trailer was beautiful, it was secluded, and Niall was glad he'd decided to come here first.

After Harry took a moment to stretch his limbs and wake up his legs. He’d circled the small trailer site twice. His eyes darted to each corner and tree.

"This is where you live..." Harry said and trailed off. His view swept over the unkempt grass and moss-covered rocks, and then towards the dilapidated, sad trailer.

He approached the decaying lawn chairs perched in front of it. He kicked at the leg and swiped his hand across the seat. When he lifted it, his palm was black with dust and soot. There was a row of dead flowers on the window sill behind him.

"Or is this where you kill me?" He asked with a silly smile.

Niall laughed. He threw his head back and let the happiness move through his veins. It felt nice to laugh. He pulled a rag from his back-jean pocket and approached Harry. Niall gently circled his long fingers around Harry’s delicate wrist. He felt the younger man’s pulse quicken. Niall smiled while he wiped Harry’s hand clean. Harry smiled back. He back up and headed towards the trailer’s front door. Niall felt his father's energy immediately. Bobby was etched into very small crevice of the decaying mobile home.

"This was the first thing my dad bought in America. He taught me everything I know here," Niall said and gestured around himself, "figured this was the best place for you to learn."

Harry tripped over a root as he rushed towards the front door. He crowded Niall’s back until the other man felt Harry’s warm breath on the back of his neck. It was comforting as Niall slid the key into the lock pushing the whining door open.

Sound fell away from Niall as he passed through the small threshold. He felt like he was 6 years old again. He used to sit at the small kitchen booth and tie sailor’s knots. His small fingers wound rope for hours sometimes until they bled, but Bobby always bandaged him back up. Harry was on Niall’s heels taking in the trailer with a vivid curiosity. His eye darted across every surface.

Harry ran his hand over the rough material of the imbedded couch. Every surface was covered in a thick layer of dust. A cleaning was a necessary, and Niall moved to the kitchen where the supplies were stored. There were plenty of military meals and survival gear stashed in the closets and cabinets, and Lysol, soap, and sponges under the sink all the stuff he’d stocked the last time he was here. Harry stayed quiet and observed.

"I’ve never taken anyone here before," Niall confessed because he could feel the question swirling around Harry's head. “It’s – this place is special, and Harry, God, you’re special.”

Harry smiled in this soft, fond way that made heat spread through Niall. He moved through the trailer with grace and ease as he approached Niall. He cornered him against the small cabinets, but Niall didn’t feel like the small walls were closing in. He felt warm, safe.

Harry’s hands moved to Niall’s jaw. His touch was light, cautious.

“Are you okay? I know this place must have a lot of memories,” Harry said. His voice was deep and sweet as it moved over Niall’s skin. 

His eye swept over the crayon drawing Niall made when he was eight years old. It was him, his father, and his mother. The three poorly drawn figures were holding hands in front of a house, his mouse in Mullingar. It was a large white farm house with 7 large windows and large hills were colored messily behind the big house. Beside the drawing the picture it was based on. It was the only photograph Niall had of his mother, and he kept it taped to the fridge beside his shaky drawing. His mother’s delicate blond hair fell over her forehead, and his eyes looked even bluer when he was young. He missed the crystal color of his eyes, and how wide his gaze had been when he was young. Now it felt narrow and dark. Niall missed the lightness of being young. He didn’t really hate to admit that Harry might be able to bring that feeling back to him.

Niall felt the weak wall he’d constructed around his heart weather and break. Tears slipped passed his blue eyes, and he closed them immediately embarrassed to already be crying. Harry’s hands move into Niall’s hair and massaged gently at his scalp. Niall’s muscles melted until Harry was practically holding him up against the kitchen counter. 

“I’m fine, I’m glad you’re here,” Niall whispered wetly and Harry nodded.

“Me too,” He said, “there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“This is the closest thing I’ve had to a home, besides Mullingar,” Niall said, and he kept his voice quiet because he suddenly felt nervous. He felt like all his nerve endings were exposed and his heart was beating above his skin on display for Harry to pluck clean from Niall’s chest, “but it always felt like him, like my Da, I think maybe now, we can use this place to get to know each other, uh for real, ya know, and then it won’t feel like him, it’ll feel like us, we could make it ours, ya know, like our special place.”

“Like a secret hideaway for just us two, we’ll need a secret password, oh, or maybe a handshake,” Harry said with a sweet, reticent smile. One that held too much meaning for Niall to understand.

Niall felt his heart expand. He wanted to kiss Harry. He wanted to touch the other man until he was choking back moans. So, he pushed his body off the counter and closer to Harry’s. He slid their hips and their lips together simultaneously. Then they were kissing, and it was effortless because Niall might be a little too in love with Harry.

The kisses start to get a little desperate. Niall’s tongue is licking into Harry’s mouth. He goes slack in Niall’s arms as the kisses get dirtier and the small kitchen gets hotter. He’s never felt so hot kissing someone before. Niall has had good snogs. He’s had fantastic snogs. But none of them were Harry, and none of them set his insides on fire.

“Are we getting to know each other?” Harry questioned as he pulled away for air. His voice was wet and rough, deeper than Niall’s heard. 

He’s reminded of how much he doesn’t know, and he wanted to know. Niall wanted to learn every crevice of his soul and hear every story he can remember. Niall wanted to know Harry, but he also wanted to know what Harry looked like when Niall’s got his cock in his mouth. 

“Ya wanna play twenty questions?” Niall asked. His accent is thick and deep, and he knows it’s from the kissing. Niall felt that heat thrumming under his skin urging him. He knew his blue eyes were dark, and his hair wild. 

Harry was just as bad. His cheeks were flushed a beautiful pink all the way across the bridge of his nose. He looked younger in the most debauching way. His eyelashes were wet, and his lips were a pink Niall had never seen so close before. They were wet with his spit. With Niall’s spit. Niall watched Harry’s lips as they curled into a smirk, and his dimples cut deep into his cheeks. Harry dove forward and kissed Niall again. He pressed in close and there was no mistaking the thick outline of Harry’s hard cock. 

The trailer wasn’t totally dilapidated. Niall stopped by every few weeks to keep the inside clean by emptying the fridge when the good went bad and putting new sheets on the bed. He knew the queen-sized bed squeezed into the back room had been cleaned. He moved Harry towards the room stumbling into the close walls.

Harry giggled into Niall’s shoulder, and the other man wanted to hear it again and again for the rest of his life. He slid his hands down Harry’s side tickling his fingers lightly against the pale skin. Harry squirmed and moaned as he chased Niall’s lips trying to get as much of the man as he could. 

“I know we have the rest of our lives, but I’ve been thinking about you fucking me for nearly two months straight,” Harry mumbled into the skin of Niall’s neck kissing slowly and purposely. It sent shivers down Niall’s spine, and he maneuvered them with more purpose now.

Because truth be told, Niall had been thinking about fucking Harry for nearly two months straight as well. He wanted to map out Harry’s body with his tongue. Niall was determined to memorize every freckle on the younger man’s body, and he would happily start now.

He pushed Harry back until he was falling onto the mattress. His body hung over the edge, long and lean. All muscle that Niall wanted to lick. He caught sight of dark ferns tattooed on his hips as his shirt rose. Harry looked up at him with dark green eyes, and his lips were a blinding red, wet with spit all from kissing Niall. It was incredible, and Niall could feel his cock swelling from just the sight because Harry looked half debauched, and they’ve hardly started.

“Niall, fuck –“ Haryy sucked in a breath – “please do something.”

Niall smirked because it’d be so easy to get Harry to beg. And he would, but not right now. Right now Niall just wanted to taste every inch of Harry. His hands went to the button of Harry’s pants. They were a pair of ridiculously wide leg pair of black trousers that were cuffed at the bottom. Harry merely whined as Niall quickly shed his trousers leaving his tight pants behind. There was time. Harry clawed at Niall’s shirt pulling at the flimsy cotton Henley until it was over Niall’s head.

“Fuck,” Harry whined as he wound his fingers into Niall’s chest hair surging forward to kiss him again.

Niall was happy to kiss back. His finger simultaneously popped the last few measly buttons of Harry’s wildly patterned shirt before he slid it down his arm. Then he kissed down Harry’s next, over the swallows on his collar bone, he swirled his tongue around his left nipple and bit lightly at is right. Harry was loud. He moaned and whimpered below Niall, and he reveled in the noises, the curses, the steady chant of his name as Niall palmed over Harry’s cock. It was all making the trailer very hot.

“Pet,” Niall said, and he barely recognized his own voice through the haze and husk.

Harry’s gaze shot to his a little unsteady by the way his cock pulsed under Niall’s light, grounding grip. He smiled just lightly and bucked his hips.

“Pet, I’m gonna suck your cock, then I’m gonna fuck ya, sound good?” Niall asked through his husky voice.

Harry nodded slowly with the languid smile. It was all so intoxicating. “Gonna do unspeakable things to my ass, Horan, gonna make me blush?” Harry said with a smirk and an incredibly deep and dreamy voice.

Niall laughed and pulled Harry’s tight briefs off in one seamless move. Niall was glad that Harry was joking about the night they met, about what Ruth had said to him while possessing his friend’s body. Maybe Harry was ready for this life, he was strong and brave Niall knew, but he seemed so at ease like he’d been waiting for something exciting to finally happen to him. Maybe he was that something that Niall has always been missing, that hole in his chest that he can’t quite fill. It was waiting for him in the middle of nowhere New Hampshire. Niall felt a sudden fondness for the man beneath him, and he wanted to share it. He was afraid of his feelings for Harry, not anymore. He was finally going to take his father’s advice and just trust his gut. 

Niall leaned up to kiss Harry gently. A soft, special, secret kiss that holds more meaning then the eye can see. And Niall felt it, and he thought Harry did too, by the shimmer in his green eyes. Niall gave Harry a dazzling smile, the one he saved for only a few people like Charlie and Finn, and even Bobby when he was alive. 

Niall kept his voice soft, but light and joyful as he said, “I’m gonna love falling in love with you, H.”

Harry made a strangled noise from deep in his throat before he surged forward and kissed Niall. He wrapped his hands into Niall’s hair pulling the tousled locks until Niall couldn’t get any closer. Niall wiggled out of his grip and down his torso until he his face was in front of Harry’s dick. It was hard, the veins bulging from the skin and the tip glistening. Niall licked his lips and heard Harry whimper. He licked up the man’s cock before taking the tip in his mouth. Niall liked giving blow jobs because he liked the feeling of a hard cock, but Harry was absolutely needy for it. He whined and moaned and tried to buck his hip into Niall. He held his hips down firmly and hollowed his cheeks while Harry chanted his name. 

Niall let Harry wind his hands into Niall’s hair and set the pace as he reached into the pocket of his pants for the condom and lube. Not that he had planned this or anything. He just happened to notice them in the drug store when they stopped for gas.

“Yes, pants off,” Harry moaned as he thought Niall was pulling down his dark, tight skinny jeans. He stilled with his hard dick still half way down Niall’s throat and urged him to get naked. Niall dropped the lube and condom onto the sheets and then pulled his pants and briefs off. He tossed them among Harry’s clothes, and resumed licking and sucking gently at Harry’s cock.

Niall was quick and efficient as he slicked up his finger and wound it around the back of Harry and into his crack. He wailed and tightened his grip in Niall’s hair as the man pushed the tip of his finger in Harry’s rim. Niall kept bobbing his head as he began to finger Harry. The younger man fell apart beneath him, and it was absolutely breathtaking.

“Please, please, Niall, please, you have to fuck me,” Harry gasped his cheeks flushed a brilliant pink and his eyelashes wet with tears.

Niall quickly rolled the condom into place and used some lube to wet his dick before he climbed up Harry’s body. He lined himself before he gently started to push in. He swallowed Harry’s groans with a deep and dirty kiss. Niall felt a little drunk as he rocked into Harry his dark inked skin under Niall’s finger tips. Harry moaned and bit at Niall’s neck leaving dark bruises, and Niall whispered dirty things in Harry’s ear as he snapped his hips deeper into the other man. Dirty things like how warm he felt, how pretty he looked flushed and fucked and full. And Niall couldn’t even help it because he’d never felt like this. His body moved on instinct to move in a way that had Harry shaking beneath him.

“Baby, Harry,” Niall said getting the other man’s attention. His eyes were hazy and blown out with pleasure, and it took a moment for Harry’s gaze to focus on him. Niall slowed the rocking of his hips, but he pushed in deeper. “I want you to come, pet, and I want you to do it from just my cock.”

Harry nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” he moaned. His voice was breathless.

Niall smiled and sucked on the spot behind Harry’s ear before he lifted Harry’s hips and rocked in deep and fast. Harry clawed at Niall’s back and urged the other man to go harder, deeper. Niall smirked and gave Harry what he wanted. He continued to whisper dirty things in Harry’s ear because he liked the way goosebumps rose on the other man’s skin. Harry was breathless and nearly voiceless but the time Niall hit his prostate. Harry threw his head back and screamed Niall’s name in raspy cry. Three more thrust and Harry’s coming his cock still untouched between them.

“Keep fucking me until you come,” Harry moaned. He was dazed, but he continued to kiss over Niall’s collarbones.

Niall was so close. All it took was Harry leaning up to kiss him gently on the lips, sighing before he said, his tone deep, “fucking perfect, feels like you were made just for me.” 

Niall spilled into the condom with one last cry of Harry’s name.

They kissed, Niall cleaned them up, and they crawled under the sheets. Harry whispered the story of his first time, and Niall told Harry about how he came out to his father while burning a vengeful ghost’s remains. They laughed, and their lands and lips roamed lazily over each other as Niall told stories he never thoughts he’d share, and he listened as Harry whispered his own secrets. When the sun started to set, Niall mentioned dinner.

“Tomorrow we should start on the basics of hunting,” Niall mentioned as he pulled on some sweatpants and headed into the kitchen area.

Harry emerged a moment later.

“Okay, but you’re also going to tell me more about your first real kiss and fuck my mouth,” Harry said and leaned casually in the small opening.

Niall choked on his laugh. Yeah, he was going to really love falling in love with Harry.


End file.
